At times, I wondered whence the value of innocence was founded. When was it valuable to be oblivious, naive, blind? What makes a young mind purer? I have wondered without avail. I simply assumed it was fact. Dewdrop was innocent before, because he could never understand – through practice – the weight of his barbs. Little red discs did not stare back, did not bellow in pain, did not bleed. He was trained to shoot, not to kill. It was I who would be his mentor in the latter.
The rest of the squadron leapt up to join me, Tinker sporting a spear with a cannon-like attachment at its end, Sweetsprout a set of barb shooters, and Red Wake a rifle. Tinker sped ahead of the group and shouted back, “We’re short on ground forces! Let’s make up for it!”
With that, we sped off to the source of the gouts of flame, a strange notion that seemed to defy all forms of sense. There was an odd thundering sound that rolled over the plains. I looked for clouds, but saw none but the ever-present clouds of smoke over the city. I shook the thought out of my head, and focused on my flying.
We were on course to meet the dragons halfway, keeping them at hoof-length away from the city. The fiery streaks ceased for a moment, shrouding our attackers in shadow. Red Wake called back, “When we get in there, we stay together. We’re only useful as a team! When in doubt, follow whoever you can, and never hover in place!” She craned her neck back around, just as the light from a far-off errant flame played across her mane, and lit up her fierce smile.
The dragons loomed closer and closer. There was hardly a half-mile between us now. The thundering grew louder, and as the moon cast its gaze over the battlefield, I made a frightening discovery. The light shimmered in the dragons’ wings, and as we neared the front of the pack, I could see myriad shimmerings behind, which alone seemed to outnumber the stars, a brilliant and horrible shine that threatened to lure me into its strange beauty. It was not thunder that grew and assaulted my ears.
A bright green streak from an unseen source arced into the glinting mass, and another roar, keening and mournful pierced the night, and a much brighter arc of flame shot as furious rebuttal from the dragons. Tinker aimed his spear towards the mass and flicked a hammer on its end. A similar bright green arc flew out from the barrel on the end of the spear, obscuring the night in its emerald brilliance, for a moment outshining the moon and the dragons’ brilliant scales. I saw a short glimmer where it struck, and knew it was a solid hit, but still no shadow had yet fallen from the glimmering mass. Tinker reached into one of his saddlebags and pulled out a small glowing orb, and loaded it into the end of his tool of reckoning. He shouted to nopony in particular, “No harm in trying!”
We were a mere 100 meters from them now, and Sweetsprout took the lead for a moment, banking so that we did not meet our armored foes head-on. Deafening roars and grave shouts saturated the night air, as our colorful amalgam met the shimmering, thundering shadow. As we entered the fray, the moon’s light was blocked out, and I was found trusting only the flitting, hazy forms of my new comrades, soaring between massive forms that I could only get a glimpse , a shallow reflection from. We banked hard up and down to keep from getting caught in the mad blitz, though why we had thrown ourselves straight in was still a mystery to me.
Suddenly, a bright yellow arc leapt out from one of my teammates, illuminating on one side a pure white coat and a blood red mane, and the other an enormous eye, which was rent open unforgivingly by the savage beam. Sweetsprout and Tinker broke the dodging streak to assist the target that Red Wake had so cruelly marked. Dewdrop followed suit, and I started to circle the frightening form. From this piece of shadow emanated a somber cry, followed by a stream of purifying fire, aimed for Sweetsprout. The youth’s vigor overcame the half-blind dragon, however, and Sweetsprout twisted and darted about, unsinged.
I was just watching, watching the others do their part to cut away at the dragon’s defenses. Tinker was able to cut an oozing red streak down one of the dragon’s wings. Sweetsprout sent a barb straight into the bridge of the dragon’s shout. Dewdrop, like myself, seemed to be circling, like a rat too afraid to secure its meal. A harsh, feminine shout somehow reached my ears, “Whenever you two are ready!”
I gave a short glance at Dewdrop’s face, as light from energy blasts and fire played across his wide eyes and his wide-open mouth. Better me than him. I did a corkscrew, arcing over the dragon’s massive head, then threw myself forward in a practiced deadly grace, hooves forward, just a bit slack, ready for impact. I felt my first strike connect.
I first felt the force of death drain itself from my hooves, my stingers pulling from me the grim momentum. Death then left my knees, then my shoulders, leaving a heavy, burning ghost behind. It drained itself from my neck and my hips next, leaving them rigid in absolute shock, stiff in absolute terror. It continued on up to my jaws, the base of my wings, and my hind legs, which all twitched from the sudden absence of its driving force. Finally, death left my eyes, my wings, and my tail. My wings became those of a freed soul, my tail a black flame which had just flickered itself out. My eyes were what directed death to its latest arriver, as I stared helplessly on into the incredible profusion of red streaking out of the skin under the strange iridescent scales. My ears heard death’s heralding call, a chorus of cracks under my hooves.
I closed my eyes, hoping that death was finished with me, and kicked myself up off of the dragon, extracting my stingers. I had struck it straight at the base of its skull. I reared and spun around for a second strike, but the dragon’s wings had already stretched out limply. Our first shadow descended, leaving streaks of red water behind it. An alien voice echoed across the new void between us, “Nice hit! We have to keep moving!”
I shook my head, and whipped myself back into our little formation, with Red Wake in lead position. There was no longer a battlefront. There were only groups of pegasi engaged in the destruction of their own shadowy foe. Red Wake fired off another bright gold bolt, striking a dragon – which was already occupied with its own diminutive strike force – at the base of one of its wings. A cheer came from the formerly-occupied squadron as the crippled dragon could not help but spiral down to its inevitable demise. Red Wake gave the victorious cry of a hunter in reply.
“That’s two, team!” shouted Sweetsprout.
We continued to dart between scenes of fire bathing small flitting shadows and bright beams sending light into the dimly-lit night. The constant flashing of battle had become my moonlight, my navigator, and I hoped to myself that perhaps the fire was but a clever illusion, casting the very shadows it seemed to burn. I would have liked to think that. I shut out the screams and yelps of the higher timbre, calling them whistlings of the wind through a multitude of desperate wings. Sweetsprout marked our target this time, firing a barb at an even larger dragon than we had faced before, its head alone approximating five times my body size. The diminutive dart found its way into the shadow’s wing, but did little to affect the massive thing’s path.
The group split off into every direction around the dragon, beginning our morbid loops of death. I turned myself downwards, soaring under the dragon’s underbelly. I saw the flashes of a few of Red Wake’s rifle shots and one of Tinker’s green blasts, but not where they had struck the beast. I flew under him, and then behind, where I took my opportunity with the dragon’s back turned towards me, and propelled myself forward with a vindictive flap of my wings. I embedded my great metal enders into the dragon’s lower spine, and saw that its scales were brilliantly white. It bellowed in pain, but death still did not pay the fiend its dues. I extracted myself as the dragon craned its neck over, twisting the rest of its body in turn to see his bold opponent. I avoided meeting its gaze, for fear it may be the last thing I ever saw, but flew straight for its head, hoping to give an additional strike to its lower jaw.
The dragon’s head did not waver as it observed me, a small little speck advancing up its back. A desperate call echoed against its scales, “Watch out, Mellownote!”
I turned my eyes up into the dragon’s abyssal mouth to see a short flickering. My eyes widened, taking in the foreboding beginnings of a flame that could drown the world in a cruel, scorching light. I tried to flick myself aside, using my experience with swift turns, but the dragon was fast for its size, angling around and craning his neck to keep me in his own deadly gaze. Seeing my efforts in vain, I decided there would be only one solution. I returned to my original course, looking the beast in the eyes this time. They presented to me nothing but an incredible depth, reaching down beyond the depths of the ocean, beyond the depth of space, deep into the unfathomable depth of the mind. Into those twin abysses I cast to him a promise, pointing my hooves forward.
I saw the embers begin to ignite into full glow, but a steel grey glint flew through the fray of our oaths, and into the dragon’s maw, where it coated itself in embers, and continued on through the roof of the bright cavern. The incredible depths of the dragon’s eyes grew hazy, and the flame that would be the world’s reckoning flickered out. The last ember faded, and the great white shimmering beast became strangely limp. The wings ceased their additions to the thunder, and the diamond mass fell helplessly to the earth. I turned around to see the flickering light of battle play across the face of young Dewdrop. His eyes were wide, and his mouth slightly open, as if about to let out a terrible scream. His head slowly tilted down, following the dreadful form as it met the ground, and cloaked itself in a cloud of dust and dirt.
He had done it. Just as I had hardly a moment before, he had taken his chance. I had taught him. I had shown him, and he had learned.
Never before had I been more ashamed a teacher, as the day my student took my example.
A cheer from Tinker broke our trances, “Beautiful shot, Dewdrop!”
So it was beautiful.
Dewdrop shook his head, throwing out a stormy haze that I could see building in his eyes. He pulled another barb out of his bag, and loaded it into the empty launcher under his right wing. Without a word, he chased after the rest of the squadron, and I after him.
However, as I tried to focus on that flitting blue form, an incredible and omnipresent voice broke through all of the battle’s uproar, “Fore!” I watched in a sense of confusion and awe as all around, pegasus vanguards dove down, away from their quarries. It did not register to me in that moment to do the same. I could only stare in a naive, pensive stupor.
A thunderclap and a lightning flash came to accommodate the thundering of the dragons’ wings. Just as the flash dissipated in the night, a new deadly light, a new breed of fire took form no more than fifty metres away from me. The fire seemed eager to flee itself, cruelly illuminating its canvas: an impressively-bright set of mint-green scales. I watched the cruel consumer reach out further and further, until I saw it reflect off of two faint sparkles – through which I could see no indignation, no determination, only an incredible fear – which the fire then expunged, painting over it with its char black.
Just as the explosion had fully consumed the dragon, I felt a wave of heat, and an even stronger pulse of raw force knock me away from the cruel scene, kindly turning my head away. I flailed for a bit, tail over wing before I was able to stable myself once more.
But that blue blur was gone. My wings nearly locked, and my eyes grew wide, darting about desperately to catch sight of Dewdrop, but I could only see the other squadrons returning to their opponents. Then, just as the heat of the blast nearly died, it seemed to rekindle around me. For a split second, I felt it grow, until I realized it was gathering from behind me.
I had hovered still.
A primitive fear took over my body, and my wings finally did lock. I fell helplessly, tumbling down to see a glittering of shadow that even the flickering fires could not illuminate, save two burning yellow gems. They were cruel eyes, not like those of the dragon that had been consumed in the earth ponies’ own deadly flames. I could not look away from these, either; only stare into them, as they began stealing something from me, which I could not put a name to. I could feel my heart rate slow, and my eyes fade slowly until I closed them.
I felt the wind tousle my mane and tail, and pull my wings up. I tumbled over to face the wind that was rushing past, trying to make way. Behind me, another wave of heat gathered, preparing to extinguish me.
I smelled a mixture of fire powder and smoke, though the rushing air did its best to dilute it with its traces of purity.
I heard behind me a rumbling, growling tumult from the dragon’s maw through the whistling of the wind around my ears and feathers, and the firing of countless bolts and beams, and cries of fear; I opened my mouth to join them, but could hear only a dry whimper.
I opened my eyes once more to see rolling plains, dimly lit by stray beams of moonlight. I wished to close them once more, as I grew closer and closer, but I could not. The wind rushed into my eyes, and tears streaked the fur around my eyes.
But there was something left; that night, I saw a different, happier ending. However distant, impossible it seemed, it was something neither the ground nor the fire behind me could offer. It was not release I sought any more. It was redemption.
I fought against my locked wings, slowly pulling them out against the rushing wind, causing me to wobble and tumble even more. The ground rushed closer, but I continued to rally against my own innate fears. I gave them a flap, two, and the ground began rushing under me, rather than towards me. A bright light and a wave of heat surged from behind, and I immediately swerved upwards, and dared not pause to look at the flames that devoured the air below, for they rose with me, hoping to snatch me up, illuminate me, then leave me extinguished. I darted left and right, and although the cruel light was able to singe the end of my tail before the eddies of wind carried it off, I eluded its cruel grip.
The gout of flame stopped, and I climbed desperately up, rushing to the fray, which had thinned considerably. The golden eyes behind were just as determined, though; I could still hear a vindictive whooshing of air just beyond my own desperate wingbeats. My wings and lungs began to ache, which only made me double my efforts, hoping to lose my fatigue in the deathly race. I broke into the fiery fray, darting helplessly between the battles. Yet still, the shadow wove its way through to pursue me. Another set of embers built up in its maw, and I had everywhere to run, but nowhere to hide. I craned my neck to look back and saw the purifying light build up in its throat, and it began to surge forward. I could only stare into the dazzling light.
It ignited, but not of the shadow’s accord. Instead, a venom-green beam struck the embers, calling forth an incredible and brutal show of light, of which some flew from the mouth, most made jets from the nostrils, and the rest scorched the dragon’s insides. The yellow eyes flickered for a moment, and another shadow – one of the blackest I had seen without its illuminating eyes – fell to the earth.
I spun around to see a familiar tan-coated and soot-smeared stallion, blast spear level with his eyes. A wisp of smoke trailed from the small cannon, and he loaded another green orb into the end. Tinker broke a smile as he jeered, “Making new friends?”
I heaved a sigh, “I think I have enough.”
He gave me a short wink, then turned around and pushed off. I flew after him, dodging the trace bits of fire and stray beams that escaped the surrounding battles. The flashes and smoke made my eyes water, but I could not lose focus again. Soon enough, I could see white, blue, and green blurs circling a bright red dragon, which seemed just large and slow enough for them to continually evade. Without a thought, I pointed my hooves forward and threw a savage gust behind me. The dragon had not noticed me yet, but kept turning to try to face the swift red and white streak that was Red Wake. Before I knew it, I was careening towards the dragon’s back, rather than its underbelly. I closed my eyes, and prepared for impact.
The impact came, but rather than feeling the familiar jarring against my shoulders, I felt a small bit of resistance, and then a loose dragging across the rest of my body. I felt strange, wet, and confused. Was I inside the dragon? Curiosity opened my eyes to see a clear night sky. I turned around to see and hear the great red beast roaring in pain, and Tinker staring at me, a baffled expression on his face. Sweetsprout stopped circling as the dragon held still, and fired a barb, which embedded itself into the base of the dragon’s skull. The roar ceased, and the dragon began its long fall. As it drifted and tumbled, I could see a stallion-sized hole in the leathery membrane of one of its wings.
A wave of nausea overcame me, and my vision blurred. I gagged, but held it down, and tried to don a weak smile as I glided back to the group. As Dewdrop caught sight of me, he gave a radiant smile, which was shortly replaced by a grimace.
“Err. . . Are you all right, Mellownote?” Sweetsprout asked, his voice breaking a bit.
One last thunderclap tore through the night, and illuminated a dazzling green dragon, sending it reeling back, then helplessly tumbling down. A few cheers rose up from the pegasus soldiers. We had won.
“I’ll be fine,” I returned, hoping it was not a lie.
Red Wake gave me a friendly shove. “You’d better get cleaned up. You’ve got more red in your mane than I do.”
I did not laugh.