Ember grunted atop her hoard of sparkling gems, the years having graced her with a towering and strong form. She looked and felt the same as she did fifty years ago, sans her boost in confidence and her sway over her subjects as Dragon Lord. As she sat, her mind drifted back to Spike, as it often did. She felt that she’d been too hard on him, still adoring how kind and gentle he was. Had he always clung to her side like a lost hatchling? Yes. Did he shower her with praises and gifts? Yes. Had he refused to be with her in the Dragon Lands and rule with her forever? Yes. Was he still clinging to his pony friends? Yes.
But she still missed him, even though she had several males pining for her, Garble among them. Ember grumbled, remembering the scar in his claw, how his stupidity had gotten him humiliated. Even his own mother refused to talk with him.
The Dragon Lord stared off into the distance, her crimson eyes hazily gazing at the dark clouds overhead. She blinked. She could’ve sworn something was blocking the sun… well, suns, now that the sky had shattered. She still didn’t know what to make of that event, the ponies refusing to wright back to answer her questions. She had managed to keep in touch with Spike, thankfully. Though whenever she asked where he was, if not in Ponyville, he said that he couldn’t say and that he was fine. This had only sparked more curiosity in her for the little dragon.
Suddenly, the shadows moved again, waking her from her daze. Was whatever it was getting… closer? And… bigger?!
A rumble, the likes that she’d only ever heard the like from her father, made the land tremble. She stared up, spotting thousands of strange orange stars behind the clouds. But the stars didn’t twinkle like stars, they blinked, simultaneously. They were like legions of eyes. She began to grow nervous as the lands plunged into darkness.
Through the clouds came the sharp, blade-like snout of a dragon. Or, at least for Ember, she thought it was. But with all those eyes peering through the shadowy veil, she couldn’t tell. Then, more of the creature emerged from the thick fog. Ember’s hunch had been correct; this was a dragon, but one that radiated power and authority like nothing she’d felt before. She was sure that not even her father, Torch the Mighty, could stand against this being. She felt as small as a hatchling again, weak and helpless. It had no horns, but large black fins. Its body was muscular and strong, though it had no wings.
Ember clutched the Blood Stone Scepter in her claws, trying to convince herself that it had some effect on this new possible threat. She clenched her fangs tight, forcing herself to stand. Raising the Scepter high, she found her voice. “Halt! In the name of Dragon Lord Ember, I command you to hold your advance! NOW!!”
The creature regarded Ember, all those eyes focusing on her. Her courage quickly trying its hardest to flee, she swallowed her mounting fear. But just before she could speak again, the enormous dragon did. It was a deep and thunderous noise, yet melodic and warm in her mind’s ear. She also sensed a trace of annoyance, not a good sign. “Little hatchling, that toy holds nothing over me. While your forebears have been playing king of the hill, mine have shattered continents and crafted the depths of the world.”
Ember cleared her throat, choosing her words carefully. “Then, what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
“It was at the behest of my son.”
“Who—“
“Hi Ember!” Arkihs shouted from atop Ihkerah’s head, waving to the shell-shocked Dragon Lord. “How you been?”
Ember, for her part, managed to pick up her slack jaw. “U-uh, g-good? S-Spike, is that you?!”
“Yeah… well, it’s Arkihs now.” Arkihs smiled as the light peeked through the thick clouds behind him.
Ember watched in awe as he breathed a jet of teal and black flame down to the ground, sliding down it like a pole. Now with him closer, she spotted his multiple eyes, crystal growths, and majestic horns. “W-what happened to you? You’re…”
“Grown up? Yeah.” He snorted, crossing his slim, but muscular arms. “That’s what happens when you leave your home… or, what used to be home. Turns out that being lied to and starved all your life does wonders for your mental health…”
Ember stared. “Wait, what? Lied to? W-who would do this?! I-I didn’t even think—”
“The ponies could do that? Yeah, shows what any of us know. It turns out, Celestia’s mom even tried to wipe out an entire race for just existing. Can’t help but feel I got off lucky somehow.”
“While the journey is difficult,” Ihkerah butted in, her massive shadow vanishing as she shifted to her smaller form, yet still towering over all present. “The ending is bittersweet. Lied and starved as you were, you were strong, and still are. I see a dragon that any female would crave.”
“Uh, thanks mom…” He blushed, clearing his throat after glancing at Ember.
The dragoness in question gasped. “Wait, she’s your mom?! The big scary dragon that just pulled up and nearly made me run away screaming?!”
“Adoptive.” The two said in unison, giggling at their combined answer.
“Er… right.” Ember winced at how strained and shaky her voice felt, clearing her throat. “So… you guys pass through Eques—”
“HEY!” The Dragon Lord winced and inwardly panicked at Garble’s voice and approach. The buff red dragon stomping up to them and roughly looking over the new arrivals. Ember, for her part, didn’t really care if Garble got himself killed. “Who are y—”
Garble gawked and stepped back as his eyes landed on Arkihs. “S-spike?! Is that you, you little shrimp?!”
Arkihs took a deep breath to calm his swelling anger, standing tall and poised, tails loosely coiled around his legs. “Yes, it’s me. But I go by Arkihs now.”
“Pfft!” The red drake wheezed, erupting into a chuckling fit. “Arkihs?! What kind of name is that?!”
“The name his mother gave him.” Ihkerah loomed over Garble like a stalking predator, her shadow engulfing him as he fell onto his back in fright. This little petulant dragon was weak and brash, slow minded and foolish. He smelled of nothing but disappointment.
“A-and who ar—”
“Food doesn’t talk. Food doesn’t get to know the name of their predator.” Black smoke engulfed the dragoness, her form shifting and growing to half her normal size. She was the same height as Torch, making Ember shutter as all those blazing eyes shifted to her. Ihkerah gently whispered, her titanic jaws moving, and her voice splitting rock. “I am Ihkerah, the Living Calamity, She Who Peers, and the World Divider. I am Daughter of the First Dragon Lord.”
“S-so… you’re our ancestor?” Ember managed not to sound like a whimpering beast, her spines trembling.
Arkihs was in awe of his mother, wanting to know the stories behind all those titles. She probably even had a few she hadn’t listed.
The land shook as Ihkerah hummed to herself, taking a soft sniff of the air. “No. But there is one among you I’ve met…”
Ember was astonished. “W-who?!”
The Living Calamity’s numerous eyes scanned the area, black mist leaching off her scales as she grew back to her full height. Finally, her eyes locked onto the eastern mountainside. “Ah, there you are…”
Standing on all fours and tenderly walking towards it, she pulled her arm back, plunging her claw into the compact dirt and stone. Seconds later, she pulled a resisting and grumbling Torch from inside the mountain. The former Dragon Lord grunted and clawed at the dragoness’ monstrous talons wrapped around his thick neck. The Ahamkara of Storms grinned, squeezing tighter to make him cease his efforts. “Hello again, Torch. It’s been a while…”
“W-what do you want, Seer?!” Torch, usually the most stoic and boisterous dragon Ember had ever known, whimpered in the dragoness’ larger shadow.
Ihkerah smirked. “Ah, you know one of my older titles. Good, you know of my power.”
Torch shakily nodded. “Y-yes… a-and I’ve heard… things…”
“What kind of ‘things’ dear?” Her many eyes narrowed.
“I-I know what you did to get the World Divider title… p-please, spare my daughter that trauma.”
“Hm, I shall.” She shrugged, letting go of the former Dragon Lord.
It was then that Torch noticed Arkihs as he huffed, his eyes wide in amazement. “Aren’t you that little dragon from before? No, you couldn’t be.” Torch chuckled. “Fifty years and I could still squish you with my pinky claw! HA!”
“It wasn’t funny the first time, it isn’t funny now.” Arkihs deadpanned.
Torch nervously glanced at Ihkerah, who just watched the exchange with interest. He looked back to the little dark purple and green dragon. “True, apologies for my mistreatment of you. But you do seem to have changed, you certainly don’t look like any dragon I’ve ever seen, just like her.” He jabbed a claw in Ihkerah’s direction.
“That’s because we are Ahamkara.” Ihkerah rolled her multitude of eyes.
“And that is…?”
“This.” Arkihs said before his body was wreathed in teal fire.
Ember watched in horror as his silhouette morphed and contorted in on itself. Eyes and limbs grew where there once were none, even spotting a few maws and tentacles. She watched as he slowly transformed into a larger dragon. He grew and grew until he matched Torch in height. The crystals grew to enormous spikes on his back, his body as long as a serpent’s. The back of his neck and shoulders were covered in black spines, flicking and twitching whenever he sensed movement. Instead of his usual four limbs, he had grown a second pair of elongated forearms, just above his original arms. His head had slimmed out, his snout ending in a sharp point. His lower jaw, she noticed, had split down the middle, the two jawbones banded together by a span of flesh and green scales.
Arkihs mentally checked his new form, making sure that everything was functioning correctly. His mother had taught him the dangers of shapeshifting; it was easy to incorporate new limbs, but making sure that they didn’t interfere with vital organs was difficult. Sensing that everything was working well, Arkihs softly smirked and flexed the muscles in his new form.
All the surrounding dragons shivered and backed away. The adults looked on in curiosity and nervousness.
Torch gulped as the young Ahamkara’s form stood tall, their heights matching. Half of Arkihs’ jaw popped loose, then the other, giving way to a split jaw filled with legions of fangs. Arkihs’ voice was thicker with depth and volume, the sound of crackling fire behind each word. “Not bad, huh? What do you think? Should I keep it?”
Torch swallowed the tsunami of fear, shakily finding his voice in the former Spike’s shadow. “Heh, n-not bad kiddo.”
“Hhhhhmmmmm…” Ihkerah lumbered her way closer to Arkihs, observing his new form. The young drake found his slight height advantage towards his mother to be disorienting, but not unpleasant. He watched as she slowly circled him, stopping just to his right. “I like it. It suits an Ahamkara with your name.”
“U-uh…” Arkihs was pulled from his mother’s praise by Ember, his mind registering that she now only reached just past his stomach in height. “A-Arkihs?”
“Hm?” He tilted his head.
Ember was blushing hard, sitting and nervously rubbing her claws together. “U-uh…”
“I swear, if that little sapphire becomes a yandere, I’m off to the next world.” A voice from high above shouted, prompting Ihkerah to freeze and roll her many eyes again.
“Fiirah, how good to see you again.” Ihkerah’s head reached into the clouds, to the nearby mountaintop. “Need help getting down?~”
Seconds later, everyone watched as a small blur of deep blues, blacks, and bronze came crashing down atop Torch’s head. The former Dragon Lord’s noggin was shoved to the ground in an instant, the individual responsible for his dismay elegantly hopping off. Arkihs slowly shifted back to his usual form, his eight eyes observing the newcomer.
He could only guess that she was a dragon, his senses silently informing him of her race. Ihkerah had also taught him about the numerous other species of dragons. This one in particular was an Ulkvah. Scales were replaced by large tufts of fur. Most of her body was covered in a dusk blue, a deep black overlaying her coat with little specks of golden glitter. Piercing peach eyes glanced at everyone as she walked forward, golden claws clicking on the hard packed ground. However, what was most striking about her was that she wore nothing but jewelry. From bracelets to necklaces, slender rings to enormous earrings that stretched the earlobe, and numerous rings that pierced her tail. All of the jewelry was pure gold.
Then, the newcomer’s gaze landed on Arkihs, making the underside of his jawline redden. She slowly approached, curved claws scraping on stone. She stopped before him, outmatching him in height by two feet.
A smirk graced her dazzling features. “So you’re Ihkerah’s new baby? I gotta say, she took in a lady-killer~”
His blush deepened, his eyes glancing away. That blush only deepened as she observed him.
Gently gripping his chin, his eyes met her’s as she hummed. Stepping to his left, she let go of his chin and her claws grazed his horns; six waves of polished black ivory.
“Hm…” Fiirah momentarily glanced at his physic, smiling. “A healthy and strong build, good horns.”
Feeling uncomfortable with this stranger, Arkihs fell back on instinct. “Uh, m-mom?”
“It’s alright, my dear.” He felt her comforting and strong hand on his head, finding that she had shifted again. “I’ve known Fiirah for millions of years and she’s never once been smitten with a hatchling.”
“If I should come across someone of that filth, they won’t be breathing the next morning~” Fiirah now looked over his tails, not caring how terrible she’d just sounded. “I’m not tasting any fractures or breaks in his bones or scales. Still lookin’ good.”
Utilizing her hips as a weapon, she shoved Ember several feet as she came around to Arkihs’ other side. “I might not be a physician, but I’ve lived long enough to know basic anatomy.”
Ember picked herself back up and whirled on Fiirah, baring her fangs and wings spread. Leaping into her attack, Ember was suddenly blown into a bolder by a huge gust of wind. Fiirah smirked as she faced Ember’s direction, flexing her golden claws. “Babe, you need to learn your place in the world. Let momma Fiirah tell you where it is…”
Within a second, the Ulkvah stood over Ember, faces inches apart. “It is as a wailing fledgling. I have lived eons in the span of your sixty-two years of life. I have amassed enough power that even Ihkerah, the Daughter of the First Dragon Lord, has respect for me. I may not be able to see as many things and places, but I can promise you, without a doubt, that your existence is a footnote in the world when compared to me. You haven’t outlived ten mates like I have, have you?”
Ember shuttered, sweat pouring down her scales as she sat in the shadow of this ancient creature. She tried to speak, tried to say something, but the words died in her throat as she stared into the eyes of Fiirah. Here stood a being older than her own father, who was growing older and weaker by the day, with power and wisdom beyond knowing. Ember could only whimper and curl in on herself.
Fiirah grunted as she stood and turned. “Hmph.”
She returned to a flabbergasted Arkihs and a disapproving Ihkerah. “What?”
-=Meanwhile=-
“Oof, that blue one took a beating.”
Damian tilted his head over the rock he was leaning against. “Yeah? Is it still going?”
“No,” Greg grumbled, having been watching from the ridge they lounged on. “The fuzzy one is talking with Arkihs and the chief.”
Damian’s snout scrunched. “Still getting used to his name.”
“Same. Been calling him Spike for so long, it’ll take some getting used to.”
“You ever think about changing your name?”
“What are you talking about?” Greg huffed, turning around as he sat up, cross-legged.
“Like what happened with Havaak? Or… Micah.”
“Don’t really see the point.”
Damian struggled to find the words. “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe we visit another Warg village, and they think our names are weird?”
“You get to deal with that, Beta. I’m happy where I am. I don’t have to go on any treaty talks.”
“Yet. If it’s between more than two packs, all the first of ranks have to come.”
“If that’s a joke, get better material.” Greg scowled.
“It isn’t.” Damian deadpanned. “You know, it’s no wonder you nabbed Maggie with that charm and charisma.”
The Delta smacked his forehead with a padded hand. “We were drunk…”
“Don’t give me that, ‘we married while intoxicated’ bull-crap! You nabbed her hook and sinker with your one-liners!”
“Hey, at least I don’t have leather bindings stuffed in the closet!” Greg snarled, showing his fangs.
Damian’s laughter quickly shifted to annoyance, a deep rumble in his chest. “That was uncalled for, Greg.”
The Delta snorted, the closest to an apology he’d been known to give, adding his own low growl. He sighed, his rage tempering. “I’m hungry…”
“Figures, you’re always cranky when you’re starving.”
Greg blinked, his nose twitching as he caught something. “You smell that?”
“What?” Damian sniffed the air, smirking. “The chili you had last night?”
“You had the last bowl, and you know it, fatso.”
“It takes a lot to keep these gains~”
“And a chocolate bar to lose them.”
The Beta huffed. “So what’d you smell? A rabbit?”
“No…” Greg sniffed again, closing his eyes as his head angled down. “It’s underground. It almost has this weird copper smell, but… better.”
“Crazy. Plan to—” Before he could finish his sentence, Greg was hard at work digging.
Ash, dirt, and rocks came flying overhead, landing on several unlucky dragons. Not knowing where the rocks came from, they guessed it was raining rocks.
Damian watched as Greg’s legs and tail vanished underground, the digging stopping soon after. He peeked into the dark hole, staring down into the blackness. “Uh… Greg? You find your lunch?”
Green flames sparked in the dark, their embers whipping through the black. A deep rumble clawed its way out from the depths. Damian heard the sound of chewing and the grinding of metal and stone.
“Greg?”
The chewing stopped for a second. “Huh? What?”
The Beta squinted, just barely making out his friend in the dark hole. “Uh… I don’t even know what I’m looking at…”
Amongst the darkness, dirt, and rocks, Damian found Greg with his cheeks full as bits of stone and metal crumbled from his lips. Greg slowly munched on his strangely pleasant meal, the rocks and metal snapping in his jaws like hard candy. It still had a very iron-like taste, but at least it was sweet.
“Are you seriously eating rocks?”
Greg crawled his way out of the hole with a few more scraps of metal ore, showing them to the Beta. “And this.”
Damian pinched the bridge of his snout, rubbing his brows. “I shouldn’t even be surprised with how much crud I’ve seen…”
The Delta just shrugged, going back to his exotic snack.
-=Meanwhile=-
Kaarda stepped from the bustling streets of Norora, pulling her dripping grey cloak from her back. Her pale fur shimmered in the candlelight as she entered the temple. Carved from polished marble, gleaming metals, and glittering jewels, the temple stood tall among the city’s towers. Placing her cloak down on the closest bleacher, she steadily walked up to the altar, pink and blue eyes glued to the ruins of their Holy Almighty. Her ears perked at the distant sound of practicing choir, their chants like a gentle melody to her.
Stepping up to the altar, she reached for the nearby rack of clean clothes and draped it over her head. Kneeling, she folded her hands as she began her prayer.
So focused on her meditation, she failed to notice an older male stalking up behind her from the shadows. He greedy smirk was plastered on his snout, desire in his eyes as he gazed at Kaarda. He was dressed in fine silks and pearly furs, the attire for a priest. He was within reach of the unsuspecting female, claws extending. He would have this female… and he would be her true mate.
His claws an inch away from her slender neck, a much stronger claw gripped the priest’s. The perverted Warg felt a chill race through him as a low growl was whispered in his ear, with a voice that was possibly twice as old as he. “I will have words with you…”
Not waiting for an answer, the elder silently dragged the priest into a backroom, in the farthest corner of the sanctuary. A Ward of yellow flame entombed the room, silencing all activity from the rest of the temple. A dim flash of light, blood pooled at the foot of the door, and the spell lifted.
Kaarda exhaled, “Amen…”
Opening her eyes, she jumped at seeing the elder, carrying a bundle and wiping his hands with a wet cloth. “A-Alpha Duume. Y-Your grace…”
She blushed, hardly ever been in the presence of her pack’s leader. Duume smiled, his deep, gravelly voice reminding her of her late grandfather. “It’s no trouble, Kaarda. Are you finished with your prayer?”
“Y-yes…” She took the cloth from her head and placed it in the basket next to the rack, pulling a small bundle of her own from her robes. She placed it on the altar, licking her dry lips as she looked back at the Alpha. “U-um, m-my youngest turned twenty today…”
“That is a good age, expecting any grandpups soon?” Duume smiled warmly.
Kaarda held in a giggle. “Hardly, the poor pup has to find a mate for that!”
“Then my hopes and prayers are with your family.”
She bowed. “Thank you, my Alpha.”
Duume bowed back and watched as she left for home. His smile vanished as soon as the great doors slammed shut. His face turning grim, he placed his bundle on the altar, a small amount of red staining the cloth. He then threw the drenched rag into the bin and pulled a clean cloth over his grey and black head, his pale blue eyes glaring down. He had no rings in his eyes. “Dear Father, I ask that you forgive me for an unworthy prey, for such a plagued offering. I shall offer a double portion this next week for you. But such filth shouldn’t be housed in your temple. Again, please forgive me. Amen.”
Throwing his cloth in the basket, he turned to leave with his hands folded behind his back. But before he left, he looked to the nearby janitor.
“Clean that up.” Duume nodded to the blood pooled under the door.
The janitor nodded shakily, suppressing a shiver as he opened the door. The janitor stared for a moment, then clenched his fangs and went to gather his supplies.
The choir still chanted…
The city still bustled…
The dead body’s robes were shredded, and a bloody hole carved into his torso.