//------------------------------//
// The Best of Intentions 
// Story: A Piece of Unwritten History 
// by Of No Importance 
//------------------------------//

Day one.

Keeping a journal was a necessity when living in isolation, as any avid explorer would tell you. It was said that writing in a journal allowed a pony to externally analyse their thoughts, rather than keeping their emotions bottled up until the brim threatened to overflow. When somepony lost control of their emotions, they would act rashly, and rash actions could be the end of any promising endeavour or noble cause. Yes, keeping a journal was truly a necessity, it was a shame that the dragon holding it had nothing to write just yet. 

Spike would have been lying if he said that his first day of solitude was uneventful; disappearing from existence was hardly a simple process. The first step involved locating the perfect stage for his final performance in life. Luckily for the drake, there were plenty of caves left vacant outside Ponyville's borders, so he had his pick of the litter. The locale in question wouldn't have been his first choice for comfortable living, but it served its purpose, just as he would. Out of Ponyville's direct sight, but the peak of the mountain in which it was placed provided a perfect vantage point for the dragon's keen sight to gander over at his most precious treasure. 

The next step was far more tricky, and painful. Throughout their lives, the Element Bearers had- Oh, that's vital information that has just been tossed in without the slightest bit of thought! A bit of an explanation is surely in order. The memories were fond within the relatively young reptile, but it was a double edged blade. With fondness came familiarity, with familiarity came dependance, and, with time, dependance can cause such heartache. How long had it been since he had lost the last of them? Fifty, no, sixty years? Oh, who was he kidding? It was sixty three years, two months and thirteen days. Pretending to be forgetful didn't make the pain fade away, it only promoted senility. 

Fluttershy was the first to pass on. Took most ponies by surprise, really. The picture of health when it all happened. Eighty was the new forty, after all. The Element of Kindness was found in her cottage, her head leaning gently on the window's frame, closed eyes staring out into the forest she cared for so dearly. Anypony, from a distance, would've thought the mare was simply sleeping; dreaming of the next beautiful day she could spend with friends, family, and her dear little animal companions. She left behind three foals, long grown out of such titles, five grandfoals, five weeping mares, and a dragon whose heart was aching. Her husband had departed from life's great journey a mere two years before Fluttershy did, so it was at least a nice thought that she didn't keep him waiting for too long. It was rather surprising that, despite the Apple Family's reputation, Big McIntosh and Fluttershy kept their family fairly small, but surely, with time, their descendants would be covering Equestria. Fluttershy was buried in her family plot, beside her husband, and her tombstone was impossible to read under its blanket of flowers. Supposedly, it read, "Here lies Fluttershy. The Element of Kindness. Wife, Mother, Friend, and Caregiver." Or something to that effect. Spike would have to verify that the next time he visited the- Oh, yes, he couldn't go back. That would take some getting used to.

Rainbow Dash was the next to fall, unfortunately literally. A simple outing with her grandfoals turned bitter as the mare's age took its toll on the Element of Loyalty mid-flight, and her last moments were spent in a hospital bed, surrounded by loved ones. Soarin, of course, took it the hardest of the bunch. Even at the ripe, old age of eighty eight, the stallion was rather passionately in disagreement with every doctor who claimed that there was nothing more they could do, and that she wouldn't wake up. The retired Wonderbolt never left his wife's side, not until the end, at least. Rainbow Dash took that last, long flight into eternity at the age of eighty four, with a mourning husband, one sobbing stallion son, two crushed grandfoals, four weeping mares, and a dragon whose heart was aching left watching the skies. Her funeral featured a respectful flyover by the new Wonderbolts, honouring a true legend of the sport, and the flowers once again covered the inscription. But, it read, "Here lies Rainbow Dash. The Element of Loyalty. Wife, Mother, Friend, and Wonderbolt." Whomever was given the task of designing the inscriptions was clearly working off of a template. There were always more words to accompany the simplistic memorial, but it hurt far too much to recall them.

Pinkie Pie had her final party a year later, spending the majority of that elapsed year bringing joy back into the lives of those who were left behind. A role that could never be filled in her absence. Life, for the Element at Laughter at least, was one great big party, and the pink mare was sure to leave her guests with plenty of party favours upon her departure. The Cakes had left Ponyville decades ago, leaving Sugarcube Corner in Pinkie Pie's very capable hooves, and under her supervision it thrived into a place of joy and sweetness. It was there that she laughed her last laugh, and smiled her last smile. At the age of eighty seven, Pinkamena Diane Pie was found in her bed, in her apartment above the store, smiling at some fanciful dream that she would never have to awaken from. Her husband, Pokey, was the first to say that he wouldn't have had it any other way, and that if she had to go, he was glad she was smiling. The template was brought out of retirement, and her tombstone read, "Here lies Pinkamena "Pinkie" Diane Pie. The Element of Laughter. Wife, Mother, Friend, and Bringer of Joy. Spike could remember the further inscription for Pinkie's tombstone, as it was the only one that didn't drive a stake through his heart. It was as though she had written it herself, 
"The party may be over, but there's always the after-party!" Left cleaning up the mess in wake of her final party were one melancholy Pokey, five fully grown foals, two mares and three stallions, eight grandfoals, three weeping mares, and a dragon whose heart was aching. 

After all of the loss that Spike had experienced in that time, nothing could have ever prepared him for what laid ahead; the moment where the light of his life would disappear in the blink of any eye, and he would be powerless to stop it. The moment that still sent a dagger through his heart, and a shockwave down to his very core. The moment he lost his beautiful jewel. The moment Rarity left him. No, he couldn't relive that one. He couldn't allow that thought to return to his mind. Clutching the fire ruby to his chest, Spike forced his mind to drift passed that time. Away from her, away from her foals, away from her husband's glare, away from his shame and guilt. No; even after decades, the wound was still sparkling with fresh blood, and if time was truly a great healer, he could wait. 

Four more years of sorrow went by before Applejack came to rest; her legacy truly cemented into the history of Ponyville. Celestia knew how many Apple Family Reunions she had seen in her years, or how many new members of the Apple Family she taught the ways of Sweet Apple Acres. Unlike her dearly departed grandmother, age never hindered the Element of Honesty, and the stories have it that she was up bucking apples up until the day she died, at the age of ninety three. Caramel had taken the earlier stagecoach into the afterlife, but after nearly a decade apart, Applejack was most certainly ready to be reunited with her partner in crime. Ownership of the farm was passed on to her eldest daughter, a mare by the name of Ginger Gold, and she treated it like the honour it truly was. By far the largest funeral, Applejack's grave was crowded by every single member of the Apple Family. Stallions, mares, fillies, and colts from all around Equestria had come together to mark the passing of perhaps the most inspiring relative they could've ever hoped for. After the crowd had retired to the farm, Spike had finally gotten the chance to read the tombstone. The template never disappointed. It read, "Here lies Applejack. The Element of Honesty. Wife, Mother, Friend, and True Paragon." Once the dust had settled, all that remained was a single weeping mare, and a dragon, clutching a fire ruby, whose heart, that was in shards, was aching.

Spike had almost escaped the final heartbreak. There was almost a chance that he would never have to say goodbye to her. But, as had been proven time and time again, time took its toll on every last pony, and the Reaper wasn't prone to forgetting. Not long after meeting the stallion that would become her husband, Twilight made the decision that she wished to live her life, which included having it eventually end. There was a chance she was given this idea by Princess Cadence's similar actions, but that was neither here nor there. The bottom line of the matter was that she loved Comet Tail, and she would die with him. Throughout every death, she had always been there, just as she had always been, but, three years later, on the eve of her ninety fifth birthday, Twilight Sparkle passed away; joining her husband, and her friends, in a better place. There was a national memorial held in Canterlot, buildings were named in her honour, there was a statue or two arranged to be built; she would've been terribly embarrassed about the whole thing. Yet, when it all ended, and her foals had said their goodbyes, her grandfoals had sent their final farewells, the Princess had given her speech, and all of the public had shown their appreciation, there was only one figure standing by the Element of Magic's grave. One figure, clutching a fire ruby, clinging to a memory, and weeping into his claws. They were all at peace, every last one of them, but his heart was still aching; and not just for Twilight, but for Fluttershy, for Rainbow Dash, for Pinkie Pie, for Rarity, and for Applejack. They had left him behind, and he hadn't even entered his adult stage. Damning the template to the deepest pit he could find, Spike himself donated his writing talents to Twilight's inscription. "Here lies Twilight Sparkle. The Element of Magic. To her husband, she was faithful and loving. To her foals, she was caring and nurturing. To her friends, she was loyal, kind, generous, honest, and filled with joy. To Equestria, she was truly magical." At the age of eighty eight, Spike was left alone, and that was how he was to remain.

Sixty three years, two months, and thirteen days later, and Spike erased himself from Ponyville. Any picture that contained him was destroyed, or stolen, and all of his belongings were relocated to his new cave. These belongings included: his personal photo albums, containing every photograph that he was involved in that hadn't been destroyed, a moderate amount of gems to provide sustenance, a few miscellaneous momentos from his life, his journal, and a fire ruby pendant, which the drake tended to use as a bracelet. 

As he was more than ten times the age he was upon arriving in Ponyville, Spike had grown quite a bit. He was far taller than the average pony, even when he wasn't standing on two feet, the spines on his back had grown curved and sharp, rather intimidating, his snout had grown into fearsome jaws, with razor sharp teeth to boot, and he had lost his previously pudgy physique in favour of a far more fit and strong build. Oh, and a minor detail, but he also had wings. Yes, it had taken a century, but Spike the dragon could take to the air, and he was becoming quite skilled in aerial movement. But he wasn't trying to toot his own horn. 

The last step of Spike's plan to vanish from the world was the hardest of them all. One by one, the dragon had to speak to every single pony who knew him, knew of him, or had even seen him, and ensure that nopony would ever speak of him again. It may seem harsh, but for the entire operation to be successful, Spike's memory had to die with the current generation of ponies. It was the only way to truly know that he was forgotten, and the only way for his duty to be fulfilled. 

After decades of aimless wandering, dwelling on his past mistakes and regrets, Spike was given the chance to repent for all of his sins, and make amends to the memories of the ponies he loved so dearly. Celestia herself had entrusted him with it, and he would never let her down. Ponyville was in grave danger. A dragon roost had formed a few mountains over, and not the nice kind. It had been witnessed that these particular dragons were ruthless, carnivorous, and especially hungry. Diplomacy had failed on a wide scale, and the dragons proved to be hostile. With no options left, the sun goddess approached Spike, requesting his aid in the matter, and there was nothing in Equestria or tartarus that would prevent him from protecting his town, even if that meant he would never be able to return. So, there he was, strategically placed between the town and the roost. When the dragons came, he would turn them away, and Ponyville would never even know of their existence. Ponyville would exist in harmony, as it always had. Ponies would live lives filled with simple joys and pleasures, as they had the right to. 

Spike had a duty to fulfil, and with the beginning of his first day, he felt a satisfaction that only purpose could truly provide. The drake stepped towards the mouth of his new home, spread his wings and claimed the skies. Climbing higher and higher, Spike perched himself on the peak of his mountain, and just barely managed to catch a glimpse of Ponyville in the distance. The sun was slowly making its descent on the other side of the mountain range, and in a few hours, the town would be dotted with lights as ponies went about their nightlifes, and they were welcomed to them. Earlier that day, Spike had said goodbye to every grandfoal that his friends had left behind, and in their eyes he could see his beloved companions all staring back at him. He was doing it for them. No dragon would set foot in Ponyville; not while he drew breath. 

The first day of Spike's watch ended peacefully, with a single figure flipping through photo albums by candlelight until finally curling up on the cave floor, holding his pendant close. He was their guardian, and they were his treasure.