Rise of the Seraphim
Prologue — An Unexpected Visitor
My dearest Fluttershy,
Many moons have passed since I last had the chance to see you, or even write to you. I hope you’ll forgive me for that, but life in Canterlot keeps me forever occupied. Nary a moment ever passes without some new task, some new request, some new demand.
It is with a slight twinge of guilt that I admit that Twilight’s departure was met on my part with a certain amount of relief. Please don’t get me wrong, I absolutely treasure the time I spend in her company. Despite her crown, she remains a student of magic at heart, and time spent with her is time spent enriching the fields of our minds with new knowledge. It is exhausting, but Twilight is an excellent teacher. With clarity and grace, she has patiently shown me her world, and in return, I assisted her in her research.
Indeed, we are already beginning to reap the benefits of that research. Gemlore shows great potential. Spells bound to gems, vast power contained in most beautiful vessels. The possibilities are endless! For me, I think it is the promise of flame-less lighting that excites me the most. Imagine a small gem, shining like the sun, illuminating your chambers with a soft and pure light. No more soot, no more flickering.
And yet, Fluttershy, the reality is far more frustrating. The promises of Gemlore are as great as they are far away. Even now, I write to you beneath candlelight. Our methods of enchantment are still too imperfect, too inefficient, and our supplies are too scarce. The gems worthy of even simple power are rare and the search for them in the caverns beneath Canterlot is a most time-consuming one.
Our slow progress has been especially frustrating for Twilight. I would not be surprised if she had cast a regenerative spell on her teeth for all the grinding they have done. I suppose her departure will do her some good. A small distraction from our setbacks, and perhaps even a source of great inspiration when she returns. As for me, I think this will be a welcome respite too. While it remains a joy to find the perfect gems, my heart truly lies in cloth, not in magic, even if it is contained in jewels.
With Twilight leaving me in Canterlot, I thought I would finally be free to find refuge in my atelier, free to exercise my craft. But the ponies of Canterlot are a most helpless bunch, so very much like foals. They engage themselves in petty disputes and come crying to us for arbitrage. Once upon a time, such petty tasks were the delight of Fancy Pants. He simply adores being seen as an arbiter. But I am not Fancy Pants, and while I too love the stage of Canterlotian life, solving their problems like a foal-sitter is most certainly not what I came for.
In truth, I suspect that their choice to seek my counsel is in no way linked to who I am. Rather, I suspect those vultures have their sights set on Twilight. But I won’t let it happen. Twilight has enough on her plate without having to worry about the whinnying of pampered ponies.
She tries to hide it, but she worries about Spike all the time. I confess that I too grew concerned at times; being ambassador to the dragons for Equestria is doubtlessly perilous. Why, the last time we had travelled there, those brutes have been so horrid to our little Spike. But then I remember how much Spike has grown, and as Rainbow has once said: “He’s not helpless. He can take care of himself.”
Have I ever told you the story behind Spike’s growth? I still cannot believe how much our little Spike has grown since leaving Ponyville. Actually, you were there when it all started. Do you recall the scales he left at your house when he visited before he left? The ones that frightened all of your little critters (and the not so little ones) because of Spike’s new scent?
Well they were only the first to go. The falling of the scales never stopped. And when the first of the green spines fell off, he came crying, fearing he would become a bald dragon. He was so distraught, he lost himself in food. To console him, I gave him the largest gem I had in my chests. It seemed to provide him with some level of comfort. But strangely, for the next few days, he seemed to be constantly trying to avoid me, running out of the room when I’d enter until Twilight had finally asked him why. He said he ate the gem I gave him because he “simply couldn’t resist.”
I was thankful Twilight acted as an intermediary because I had laughed so uproariously when she told me, it would have broken his little heart. I wanted him to know there were no hard feelings at all, so I gave him a chest full of gems (the slightly less than perfect ones, however, considering they would be for eating) with a small note saying “better gems than only cupcakes."
Soon after, there was a moment of pure joy in little Spike’s life. A scale had grown back. I was still living at the castle at that time until I could get myself settled, and I remember Spike bursting in during a conversation I was having with Twilight, proudly announcing his scales were coming back. Certainly, there were bald patches, and we were perplexed as to how he could tell the new scale from the old ones. But one look and we too were convinced.
Spike wasn’t balding like he feared. He was growing. Like how our foals lose their deciduous teeth after a certain age, so it seems that dragons lose their first set of scales after a certain age. But nopony had ever discovered that!
To me, that explained everything. His sudden ravenous hunger for any food, but especially for gems (he had described his eating of the gem I gave as being the result of a power “stronger than he was”). If only you had been there; I’m certain you would have realized far sooner. Our poor Spike was being horribly undernourished. He needed gems to grow his new set of scales. And all these years, we’ve been feeding him on a pony diet, but he was starved of a gemological diet.
That’s when Twilight and I first decided to venture deeper into the caves beneath Canterlot. Incidentally, that’s when Twilight’s sudden interest in gems began. For her, the magical properties of gems to be able to used as a substrate for the formation of a new scale set for dragons was as much about scientific curiosity as it was about knowing with what to best feed Spike. I think there is a wonderful, poetic beauty in Twilight’s greatest magical breakthrough and success actually being the result of her trying to provide for her child.
And what an effect that has had! His old scales were like flower petals: round and with a soft lavender shade. But his new ones were angular and crystalline, very much like amethyst. I wish I had sent you a photo of Spike before he left. His scale coat was a marvel to behold. It shimmered in the light, a cascade of violet hues. And I immediately noticed one thing: it matched Twilight’s coat. Well, it did up until I brought it up with Twilight. Then, the violets no longer matched her rosy cheeks at all.
As for Spike, I had never seen a little tyke grow so fast! The last few years have been amazing. I now understand it when parents gush about their children growing taller than they, but I bet none of their children have ever outgrown them the way Spike has outgrown Twilight. He almost needed to bow his head just to enter through doors!
But, I suppose like all stories of children growing up, we reach the part where they leave us. Twilight told me you were at his send-off party two years ago. (I hope you’ll also forgive me for not being there; I had a very important last minute dress order to work on). I do not know what reasons he gave you when you asked, but know that it wasn’t on a whim, and I doubt he gave you the full story behind his decision.
It feels like it was only yesterday, when I had been working with Twilight in the castle, he burst in to announce his decision. He said he wanted to leave the castle. I remember the first time he made that announcement back in Ponyville like it was yesterday. And as it had been, this time was also as the result of a flight of dragon. It was, by comparison, a tiny flight. But there had been no warning, and it had caused such a panic in the streets of Canterlot. From the windows of my shop, I could see the ponies run in a panic until they rushed in, ran past me without as much as an acknowledgement of my existence into the back, where they somehow believed they’d be safe. As for me, perhaps years of fantastical adventures really have affected me because I calmly trotted to the window to see what the commotion was about. I was so very perplexed at first. There were no monsters, no swarm in the streets. But up above, I saw them soaring across the clear sky. And my only thought was that none of them look half as beautiful as Spike.
But for Spike, that was enough. He said he knew ponies did not understand dragons. He knew they inspired fear, and he wanted to become an ambassador of Equestria to the dragons. He said he hoped that his dragon identity, but pony upbringing, could help bring the two kinds closer together. I told him it was absurd. Dragons were almost wild creatures. They had no society, no culture, no rulership. Just animals that had a likeness of organization when they flock to the volcanoes. That’s when Princess Celestia dropped a bombshell: apparently, dragons do have governments. That was enough for Spike, and he headed off. He said it would give his life purpose.
But in truth, I do not think that was really the reason Spike left. It surely must have been a part of it. But why the sudden drive to find new purpose when no such need existed before? I think it was because Spike suddenly no longer felt welcome in Canterlot. You see, before the flight, ponies were merely amused by him. A dragon about two ponies high, shining light like a walking disco ball in the sunlight, doing the groceries one day, buying quills and scrolls the next.
But after the flight, I first noticed that something was amiss with the customers in my shop. They knew I had an affiliation with him, and so they asked me so many questions. Was he like normal dragons? Was he friendly? Was he safe? Was he dangerous? They were afraid of him. I told them Spike was a delight to be with — friendly, fun and such a gentlecolt. But that wasn’t enough. In the streets, in the cafés, in the shops, wherever you went, whispers of “the dragon” that lived with the princess floated. Hushed conversations pondered if “it” may have been the one that was leading the other dragons to them. Whether or not the wisdom of the princess was being clouded for her to keep such a “pet” around.
I think that was the one that did it. He feared his presence would drag Twilight down with him. What Spike did, in essence, was protect his mother by instigating his own banishment.
I told him it was foolish. That leaving would only make the ponies believe they were right. That this would lead to nothing. That if he wanted to convince the ponies that Twilight was right, he would have to stay and show Canterlot that he was not a danger.
And he told me, “If I stay in Canterlot, a few Canterlot ponies will know that one dragon is safe. If I do this and bring the races closer together, all ponies will know that all dragons are safe.”
How much of it was true belief? How much of it was trying to rationalize what he was doing? We know not all dragons can be safe, he must have as well. Perhaps one day, we will understand dragons better — enough to know when and why they could be safe. But it would not be today, not this year, perhaps not in our lifetime. Still, Spike was willing. He wanted to do what he could. He was willing to take that first step.
But I think, it was only because that first step would take him away from Twilight.
I hope you see now why I have gained such a disdain for the ponies of Canterlot.
But let me escape this place, if only for a moment. Tell me of the world I have traded for this arena of hollow glamour and empty sophistication. Tell me about our hometown.
How fare you, my friend? I see Twilight often enough and even Rainbow when her Wonderbolt duties bring her into the skies above Canterlot, but I hear precious little from you and our friends from Ponyville. I know life in Ponyville moves far more slowly than in Canterlot, and yet I cannot help but feel like I must be missing so much from your lives.
That said, perhaps that may change one day. I cannot give you the details, but when Twilight returns, we shall continue work on a new project. It holds immense promise, perhaps even more than Gemlore. If successful, perhaps I will be able to visit Ponyville far more often, perhaps even every day. It is most exciting.
In the meantime, I hope that you will write back to me soon. I miss you terribly. Give my regards to Pinkie Pie and Applejack and tell them that we should meet together again. I hope to take a holiday soon, and I am certain Pinkie Pie will be delighted to organize it for us.
Take care of yourself, darling, and until next time. All the best,
Rarity
P.S. Oh, and please do tell Sweetie Belle that I will soon be able to fulfill my promise to her. She will be ever so delighted. Thank you!
Rarity sighed as she set down her quill and rubbed her eyes. The clock had long struck midnight, and she had at last finished her letter. She stifled a yawn, closing her eyes and letting her mind wander.
It was a typical quiet night in Canterlot. Her home above her new boutique was illuminated only by a lone flickering candle. However, had Rarity looked out the window, she would have found that this would not be a peaceful night.
As it was, just as she was about to relax, her windows violently blew inwards, letting in a large shadowy figure. Rarity gave a startled scream when she was knocked aside by the impact. The ponnequins that were scattered about her room to help Rarity catch any ideas she may have instead caught the intruder’s flight pattern.
From where she lay, Rarity winced at the sound of three weeks’ worth of work being destroyed. She could only bear to look back at her room when the dust had finally settled. Her eye twitched from what she saw by the dancing light.
Ponnequins, whole and in pieces, were scattered everywhere. One had managed to hang upside down above her bed. The opulent curtains to her four-poster were torn from the debris flung into it. Fabrics ripped or rolled were tossed here and there; ruined remnants of her new dresses. And at the end of her room was a large heap of dress forms, some bearing rags while others were thankfully unburdened.
Rarity sat up and took a deep breath, only to inhale smoke. She coughed and turned her head to see a small blaze on her lectern. With a startled yelp, she began beating at the fire with her hooves, desperate to put it out. In a panic, when all that achieved was scalding her hooves, she grabbed a nearby flower vase and smashed it over the fire.
The small fire was finally put out, and Rarity panted as her adrenaline rush slowly left her. She forced herself to calm down and reached out her magic towards her bedside cabinet. From one of the drawers, she pulled out a white diamond, which at her mental urging shone like a torch. Bringing the Flare Stone to her, she examined the damage. While the lectern itself was made with treated wood and was mostly intact, the same could not be said of her design sketches and…
My letter!
She picked up the soaking remains of her letter, still dripping with water. The fire had burnt most of the parchment away, and what was left was dyed in black ink. She trembled angrily as she turned towards the pile of debris.
“You…” she growled almost ferally, stalking forward like a predator. “How dare you?”
With a burst of magic, a layer of debris was wrenched off, carelessly tossed aside. “You break into my home!” She yelled as she tore another layer off. “You destroy my latest fashion line!” Another flash of magic. “Worst of all, You! Ruined! My! Letter!” Each word was punctuated with a splintering blast. “I do not care who you are, when I get my hooves on you I will— Rainbow?!”
She dropped her spellstone in shock, staring at the pegasus lying twisted before her. There was no mistaking that prismatic mane, nor the wonderbolt uniform she wore. Through her goggles, Rarity could see Rainbow’s frozen eyes staring back. The pegasus was lying on her back like a statue in a peculiar pose. Her front hooves extended forward in flight like a foal’s action figure. Her wings were were frozen mid-flap, barely fitting through her window.
It took Rarity a moment to regain her wit. “H-hold on a tick. Let me just…” Rarity dug into the heap, dislodging a cylindrical case that fell onto her flare. It shot away like a pebble in a slingshot. Rarity paid it no mind; it still provided enough light and she needed to find … aha!
She retrieved a yellow crystal from the wreckage. It glowed faintly as Rarity stared at it. The Stasis Stone had definitely been triggered. Twilight had helped her install this particular piece of security, but now Rarity found that it wouldn’t respond to her. Her lips thinned as she dropped the crystal and promptly stomped on it, crushing it underhoof.
She felt a wave of heat pass through her like a warm wind. At the same time, the air around Rainbow shifted, and her limbs spasmed as they finished moving, almost flipping her into the air before she collapsed. Fearing the worst when her friend did not move, Rarity tentatively approached. “Rainbow…? Are you—”
“Augh…” Rainbow groaned in pain. “That. Wasn’t. Cool.” She slowly sat up, clutching her head. “I’m gonna feel that in the morning.” Her neck popped as she tilted her head and rose to her hooves. “Let me guess, one of Twilight’s— Ow!”
She was interrupted by a hoof to the face.
“Now that I know you’re alright, Rainbow Dash. Just look at the mess you’ve made!” Rarity motioned towards the mound behind the pegasus. “And you ruined my letter to Fluttershy!”
“Hey! None of that would have happened if you didn’t freeze me on the way in with that!” Rainbow retorted, still rubbing her face and pointing at the crystal powder. “What the hay was up with that anyway?”
“Oh please,” Rarity huffed indignantly. “You, of all ponies, should know that I’m not willing to let anypony break into my home like that again.”
Rainbow looked like she was about to retort, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, she groaned. “We’re wasting time here. I didn’t come here to argue.”
The fashionista scoffed. “Well, you certainly would have fooled me, darling.”
The wonderbolt raised her goggles and rubbed her eyes. “Listen—”
“No, you listen, Rainbow Dash!” Rarity snapped. “I expect full compensation for the damage done, as well as a proper apology. And until I receive both, I will not hear another word from you. Simple. As. That.”
“Rarity, I don’t have time for your dramatics! I need your help.”
“No,” Rarity answered simply, turning away with a sniff. She turned away and marched towards her bed.
“What are you doing?”
“I am going to sleep, Rainbow Dash. It has been a long day, and I am simply too tired to converse with a ruffian like you.” Rarity clambered onto the soft mattress, wrapping herself snugly in her warm blankets. “Goodnight, Rainbow Dash,” she said as she pulled on her sleeping visor.
She, with grim satisfaction, could practically hear Rainbow grinding her teeth in annoyance, as the pegasus struggled with an apology. Still, if she knew the brash athlete, then Rainbow would most likely leave tonight, only to come back a few days later with a grudging apology.
“I’m sorry, Rarity.”
Which was why the response came as a complete surprise for the fashionista. She lifted her visor and stared at the pegasus in surprise. “Pardon me?”
“I’m really sorry, Rarity,” Rainbow said, her voice very subdued. “Really, I am. And I’ll make up for this somehow, but right now I really, really need your help… please.”
Rarity had expected to feel a smug satisfaction when Rainbow finally forced herself to apologize. Instead, she felt a cold shiver run down her spine. What could possibly bring Rainbow down to such a state? Begging her for help?
With a resigned sigh, Rarity sat up. “I forgive you. But whatever is the matter, Rainbow?”
“I… no, not I. Twilight needs your help… our help.” Rainbow took a deep breath and gave a resolute look. “Twilight is getting executed. Today, when the sun is as its highest.”