Come on, just a bit further.... almost there... bucking book, stop sliding.... ah, just a bit....
"BLAM."
"Yeouwch!"
Spread-eagled on the floor, Spike stared at the ceiling, massaging the back of his head. That was all part of the job description of the librarian, he thought: having to find a book that had been filed in the very top row of the shelves wasn't always all fun and games, especially with tiny little arms like his. On the upside, his thick scales dampened his falls somewhat. Had Twilight been here, the ground had been covered in a soft mattress of half-open books; but she was out.
And so he went on for several hours. The library was his battlefield, he thought, where he confronted the intricacies of librarian nomenclature; his former allies had become fierce enemies. He faced mountains of information without the slightest hint to distinguish the helpful from the useless. He had spent so much time neatly putting books back in their place, but now, he struggled with a disordered horde spread arbitrarily over multiple shelf rows; and he didn't have enough time to examine them properly.
The search wore on him. Spike had given up his fastidious habits and left small piles of books left and right; every minute counted, losing time sorting books was out of the question.
Groaning, Spike got up on his feet. He hurried to open the book, skimming the index, indistinctly murmuring phrases he found. Title for title, cover summary for cover summary, he checked tome after tome, without unearthing any kind of result. His goal seemed more and more out of reach, his plan inappropriate.
"Well", he'd said to himself a few hours earlier, "if I were something that could transform a dragon into a pony... what I would I be? A potion? An artefact, a magic formula? An ancient rite, an initiatory journey, an epic quest? An occult practice... or black magic? A food? A plant? A drink? Well, whatever you are, you can't hide from me forever!"
And with that bold announcement, Spike threw a defiant glare at the shelves towering overhead.
But he could talk all he wanted; the baby dragon grew more and more tired and discouraged. False leads piled on and ground on his nerves more and more; in the spur of a moment, he sent his book flying towards one of the piles, where it landed perfectly as if to taunt the dragon.
"Ah, watch it!", Spike sighed and vaguely raised an arm.
With hanging shoulders and an empty stare, he slowly walked over to a seat and let himself fall down, giving a deep sigh.
"Oh well. I've been looking for hours, and not even the slightest shadow of a solid lead has turned up so far. All I've managed to do is heap on books everywhere. Pitiful, really, as though somebody had known what I was looking for and hid it on purpose. Hay, I gotta be the most pathetic dragon in the history of Equestria."
Spike let himself sink a bit further into the cushions.
"I must've overlooked something, there's no other possibility. I've skimmed hundreds of books without finding anything; I must've made some kind of mistake. Right now, all I've found are ways to change your appearance for a few minutes, or temporarily gain new powers. But nothing on permanent transformation... well, then again, it kinda makes sense. I need to transform myself into a pony... knowing how to do that isn't really a priority for a pony in a world full of ponies."
That touched upon one of the points of his plan that were the most bothersome to Spike. Turning into a pony to seduce Rarity would mean to say goodbye to Spike the dragon; and whether he wanted to or not, at his core, he would always be a dragon, a gem-muncher, a fire-spitter; later, the guardian of fabulous treasures, a magical, mythical creature of giant proportions and incredibly physical power, to be tamed only by an irritated Fluttershy ... How would his friends react when he abandoned his identity all of a sudden?
"Cause if I turn into a pony, just to attract Rarity's attention... they'll probably just pity me for being that desperate. They'll never really understand... and if they ended up hating me, despising me for going through this? No, no, no, I don't want to end up all alone... but on the other hand, to stay a dragon... that would mean to give up on Rarity. Do I deserve that? She's got her dreams, maybe I should just stay on the sidelines and be happy with what she gives me..."
Bitter, Spike got up and started to pick up the piles of books on the floor, to put them back into their place. But he didn't stop talking to himself; he didn't care that he could be overheard, he exteriorised what he couldn't say to anypony else, and that was a relief. In any care, he said to himself, who would want do understand the murmurs of a little dragon all alone in this big library?
"Falling in love with a unicorn, that was the best thing I've ever done in my life. Hard to find a female dragon in a world full of ponies. But that I want to become a pony myself... something must've gone wrong in my earlier life. Then again, if anyone's worthy of going through all that, it's her... argh, if she doesn't see anything more than a friend in me when I'm a dragon, how would it be if I was a pony? Maybe just a fool, a freak. Or would she be impressed enough to throw herself into my arms? I mean, hooves? Ahhh, that's just not realistic, Spike... that's not gonna happen..."
Spike' monologue was disrupted when he heard the library's door open.
Spiiiike? I'm back!"
"Ah, hey Twilight. Back already?"
"Yes. I'm sorry for being so late, but Fluttershy insisted that I stay for lunch to thank me. And you? Making progress?"
"Oh yeah, making progress. I was just shifting things a bit around, to see which book is where, you know", Spike said with an overly large smile on his face to hide his embarrassment.
"Oh well, that sounds alright."
"Yeah."
"You've had lunch already?"
"Oh, yeah, yeah. I've grabbed something quick."
"Great..."
Without really knowing how it had happened, the atmosphere between them grw heavy and neither really knew what to say next.
"I'm going to... continue my studies on growth magic. I'll be on the balcony, if you need me."
"Ha, okay, good luck... I'm gonna clear up this mess."
"Alright."
Once Twilight was out of sight, Spike leaned on a shelf and gave a deep sigh of relief. He had almost been caught red-handed. The fear that Twilight might discover his plan resurfaced: how would she react if she knew? Would she help him, or would she chase him from the library? One thing was certain: even if he had all afternoon, he needed to be more careful about his research, to avoid raising any suspicions on Twilight's part. With this resolution and a fresh breath of air, he got back to work.
Night had already fallen when Spike laid his claws on what would be the last book of the day. Twilight was out this evening, invited by the other ponies to one of Pinkie Pie's fabulous parties, which allowed him to stay up as long as he wanted to for his search — that however was soon, since he felt rather tired. He had almost no hope left that he would actually find a valuable response, and continued his search more out of stubbornness than real desire. The book that he held between his claws was dusty and damaged, visibly not a spring chicken. Spike blew gently on the cover, sending a cloud of dust billowing into the air that had him coughing for minutes on end. He had to restrain himself to keep the book from going up in an emerald-green flame. Only after his coughing subsided was he able to read the book's title:
The Twenty-Five Concoctions of Equestria
As usual, he started leafing through the book, looking for an index or any kind of hint that would be useful for his search. Despite his deep sense of fatigue the day had brought to him, one chapter's title caught his eye. Intrigued, he headed towards a desk, sat down and started reading the lead-in to chapter seventeen, which was titled The Mirrors of Visions.
The Mirrors of Visions are the two artefacts left behind by Lady Emerald Dream after her passing. The first, which is called the Solar Mirror, offers all-encompassing knowledge to its user. Since its creator, who was one of the most powerful unicorns of the time, had succeeded through an as of now unknown process to install in this mirror all the knowledge present in Equestria, a simple gaze allows access to every possible piece of information; this mirror is capable of recognising its user's needs, and will then immediately deliver the most appropriate responses.
The second mirror is called the Lunar Mirror. Its stated goal is to help its user understand themselves. It provides him who stares into it the elements that are essential to his quest for his true self. Stories are told of foals and fillies, unable to obtain their cutie marks in spite of numerous and pointless quests for it, who have used the mirror and had their destiny revealed to them. This mirror is often used by ponies who face difficult choices they are unable to make themselves.
Reference is made to a third mirror amongst the notes that Lady Emerald Dream left behind after her death. This mirror, which is very different from the other two, supposedly has for its purpose to allow his user to transform himself completely; to become another pony or even any fantastical creature desired. Thus, a pony can become a bird, an earth mare a pegasus, an old person young again and full of life. However, the lack of details on the whereabouts of this artefact or the way it supposedly functions suggests that it is a mere contrivance on the part of Lady Emerald, who was already very old, fancying herself using this mirror to reverse the flow of time and escape her looming fate.
These mirrors have been left to the Canterlot Archives so that their trace never be lost and may be found by all future generations who might need them.
Spike's claws trembled as he looked at the text ecstatically, his eyes wide open. For the first time, he was laying eyes on something with promise. After all these disappointments, a light of hope had been kindled inside of him, however meagre this lead might seem.
It was late, and Spike felt drowsiness weighing down his shoulders; he decided to continue the next day with a closer examination of this work. He kept the precious book hidden under his basket's pillows, so that he could be sure he would find it in the morning.
As he did every night, he dreamt of conquering Rarity's heart, who ended up falling into his arms in a romantic scene worthy of the greatest poets of Equestria. But he had another dream; in this one, he was a pony, astonishing his friends with his beauty and stateliness; melting the hearts of all the mares in town, and most of all, most of all the one that belonged to the girl he was in love with.
And so, when he awoke, you could almost see the stars sparkling in his eyes; he was swimming in a sea of happiness and confidence, and nothing seemed capable of spoiling this day. He noted that Twilight was still asleep, so he gulped down a quick breakfast and got back to work. He started by re-reading those lines that made his heart jump with joy. Soon, he was doing a veritable historian's job as he gathered multiple sources from different authors and epochs. He now knew that Lady Emerald Dream had been one of the most powerful unicorns of her time, and yet still suffered from numerous complexes during her life.
Spike saw in that proof that the third mirror had to exist; he wasn't the only one who longed to change his appearance, and unicorns were the only ones who could create these magical artefacts of transformation. He wasn't gushing with new optimism with every new clue; now that he knew where and what to look for, he was steadily coming closer to fulfilling his dream.
But two problems remained.
First of all, even if Lady Emerald did have the reasons and the power to create this notorious third mirror, no other material proof confirmed its existence; the handful of notes only confirmed that she had entertained the thought of it.
Secondly, supposing this artefact did exist, where could it be hidden? This unicorn had lived a long time ago, and if the two other mirrors were still kept at Celestia's archives in Canterlot, what could have happened to the third mirror? His research had confirmed that this lady was the owner of a wide array of magical objects, hailing from all sorts of places, and all her belongings had been scattered after her death. So if this mirror had been part of this collection, chances were slim he would be able to find it.
These thoughts occupied Spike intensely, so that he heard neither Twilight waking up nor her calls for him. Twilight was confused; she went to her friends asking for advice, in hopes that somepony might explain to her the comportment of dragons: one day completely depressed, the next unrelentingly enthusiastic, behaving like a bull facing a red rag. Twilight couldn't keep up with that; she avoided the library during the day so she wouldn't have to rub shoulders with Spike. That suited the little dragon perfectly, who now had all day for his investigations without having to go to any lengths to obscure their nature.
Around afternoon, he let himself drop into an armchair, exhausted, but excited.
The possibility of a third mirror had gone from very unlikely to highly probable; that was what he had garnered from the mass of texts he'd studied since this morning. Even if he still didn't have any definite proof, the numerous, unequivocal clues were apparent. As opposed to its mid-sized cousins, the Mirror of Transformation was supposedly of a smaller size, a pocket model equipped with a lid and covered in fine silver embroideries. It was only his suspicion, but Spike was confident that this description was accurate; he had pulled it from a document describing the tastes and preferences of Lady Emerald Dream.
If Spike was from now on more certain about the existence of this artefact, finding it was a much more difficult prospect. The fact that it had never been identified suggested his owner had either lost it or used it in an inappropriate manner, which kept the mirror from expressing its true potential. He kept mulling over the facts in his mind, but he didn't find the red line that would led him to the third mirror. The only solution he could think of was to go to Canterlot in person, to search the Princess's archives. But to go to Canterlot, he would need a believable reason that wouldn't arouse the other ponies' curiosity. This problem stayed with him for a number of weeks.
It was once again Twilight who helped him. She wanted to visit her parents in Canterlot and naturally took along her little assistant, to the latter's great satisfaction. Yes, he might have little time for his investigations, but that was better than nothing. And so, barely had they arrived and exchanged the necessary civilities with her parents, he ran off towards the palace, his heart in his mouth.
The archives were open to the public, so entering wasn't a problem. What was more, this time, he could ask the librarians who worked there for advice. And so he found a number of very interesting manuscripts very quickly, but still no trace of the third mirror's position. Despite this newfound goldmine of information, despite the growing collection of proofs, the great unknown continued to stay hidden. However, when he laid claws on a detailed list of the objects the Princess had found after Lady Emerald Dream's death, he was now certain that the artefact wasn't to be found in the palace's treasure coves.
And so, a rather depressed Spike emerged from the archive building. He had exhausted all resources available to him and still did not see how to continue his researches. The Canterlot Library? What else could he have learned there, he had already found so much in the tiny library of Ponyville; he didn't need more clues, he needed proofs. But how to find those proofs, and where and when, remained a mystery to which no book would provide an answer. Wait a minute, he thought. The mirror was an ancient object... and whose speciality are ancient objects? An antiquarian's! And where if not here in Canterlot do you find the biggest concentration of antiquarians in all Equestria?
Spike got more and more excited. Twilight had told him that they would leave Canterlot the following morning, which still left him with a couple of free hours. So he went looking for thrift stores and antiquarian boutiques, quickly finding a great number of them in a quarter next to the archive building. He started asking every storeowner, explored every stock, licked every vitrine. However, despite his best efforts, the night had already fallen when he made it to the last store in the quarter, without a doubt his last chance before he would have to return to Ponyville empty-clawed. It was then an anxious and exhausted little dragon who opened the door to the store, whose large sign read: LEWIS ANTIQUITIES.
"Good evening..."
"Good evening to you, son", a round-bellied pony answered. He had a moustache and slowly greying hair. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm looking for something. A mirror. It would be small, the kind you keep in your pocket, or attached to a chain."
"A mirror? I have two or three of those that might fit the bill. Why don't you wait while I go look for them."
The antiquarian disappeared into the store's back room; the sounds suggested he was shifting things around to find what he wanted. He reappeared and put a small wooden box on the counter.
"I'm afraid that in this box are all the mirrors that correspond do your wishes, Sir."
"Better than nothing", Spike sighed.
The old pony opened the box and presented a small mirror with a silver frame to Spike. The frame was embossed with fine ornaments. Spike examined it for a moment, then put it back and shook his head.
"Very nice, but not what I'm looking for."
"I also have this one", the salesman said and handed Spike another mirror, this one with a lid; it was made of bronze and had two pegasus wings engraved on either side.
Spike shook his head resignedly.
"And then, the last one in my possession."
This third mirror was marginally larger than the others; it also had a lid. There was a small a ring through which you could pull a chain, so that you could wear it around your neck. His heart missing a beat, Spike began examining it from all sides.
And finally, he saw it: the tiny engraving of an intertwined E and D overlapping an emerald. Lady Emerald Dream's signature. There could be no doubt. He finally held it in his claws, this third mirror that had been tantalising him for weeks.
The deal was closed quickly. Spike paid a modest price; this kind of product wasn't exactly in high demand by the antiquarian's usual clients. On his way back through the street, he started to shiver with excitement, to the point where he had to sit down a bench, take in a deep breath, and try and calm the rhythm of his heart which was beating at the pace of a sewing machine.
He could hardly believe it. Finally, his quest was over, he had gained possession of this coveted object. So many times had he dreamt, had he idealised time and time again the moment where he would call it his own, and now, he had simply bought it at a thrift store. Not exactly the most epic or heroic quest, he thought.
Nothing too evil to defeat, no fabulous adventures to recount, no great challenge that pushed you to your physical and mental limits... just a bit of library research and an even bigger stroke of luck that had led him to this old antiquarian. All that bothered Spike enormously, who still couldn't believe he finally had the mirror. Was this just another dream, this one even more twisted than the others? He constantly slipped his claws into his pocket to touch the artefact, to convince himself that it had all been real.
The lack of a heroic conclusion frustrated him, he doubted that he had really earned this object. This thoroughly banal and rapid resolution of his quest was bothersome to him; he realised that he had spent as much time being depressed as he had actively searched for the mirror, and the biggest part of his work had been of the librarian kind... useful, but not all that glorious in a world full of magic.
Spike couldn't help but feel a bit thrown off. However, little by little, he came to the conclusion that what he was done was a feat that nopony before him had accomplished; the mirror had been lost until now. What was more, he felt himself slowly emerging from his deep depression. That had been an epical enough quest for him; and he realised that he deserved this artefact, after all he had been through. At the end of the day, he was the only one to judge himself; the only one who kept lancing these contrived accusations and reproaches against himself. He cheered up a little. He was the new owner of this mirror, it belonged to him and him only.
Spike proudly sat up on the bench, puffing his chest. His doubts had vanished, his reproaches were forgotten, and he had had once more found his pride. At peace with himself, he knew there was a new challenge waiting for him: Her name was Rarity.