It rained last night. Not to say that was an uncommon occurrence in the life of Spike the Dragon, but he felt it was a notable event when taken in the grand scheme of things. There weren't going to be a great deal of notable events anymore, not now that it was finally coming to an end. Over seven centuries of loneliness were about to end, and the drake could just about taste it.
The more literal taste on his tongue was that of topaz. The dearly departed dragons whom Spike had dispatched the previous day had all about cleared out his hoard of any particularly rare and delectable gems, leaving only the common, bland ones. But, on this particular day, nothing had even tasted as sweet. But, breakfast was the least of his concerns at this stage in his life. It was the dawn, literally, of a new era, and he would be damned if he wasn't going to spare any expense in making it memorable.
After much searching, and some much need organisation, the ornate rug was recovered from the pile of gems, and a new task befell the dragon. He would have to somehow manage to clean the stupid thing. After centuries of no use, it had been in better condition, but it was better than sitting on the grass, he supposed, and there was certainly a lot he and Celestia would need to talk about before his reintegration into the lives of Ponyville's citizens. With the rug in his claw, and a song in his heart, Spike took his first trip to the clearing.
The clearing had once been a place of dread for Spike, and rightfully so. Below the soil of this spot laid the corpses of countless dragons, all of which were murdered by the drake who so happily strode around the grass now. But, that was in the past, and he wouldn't allow himself to dwell on it on such a momentous occasion.
The river sparkled just that little bit brighter on that day than it had any other, and that could be nothing but a good omen. Sure, he made it slightly dirtier the moment he started washing the rug, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made for a moment of joy. As he dipped the fabric into the crystal clear waters, the dragon was especially careful not to tear it. It only really just occurred to him that the object he held in his claws was well over half a millennia old. But, then again, so was the dragon holding it, and he seemed to be in pretty good shape. With the rug left to dry in the early morning sun, Spike made his second trip to the cave, this time with different cargo in mind.
It had taken the better part of two hours, but the drake had finally done it. His hoard was no longer one big pile of miscellaneous knickknacks and gems; it was now four different stacks entirely. One pile was dedicated solely to gems, which, now that he was being honest with himself, probably needed to be organised into their own individual piles with relation to taste, value, and the like. Secondly, there was the bits and gold, though he was rather confused about where he got so much of the damn stuff. It didn't have any particular flavour, and he didn't really need money for anything, but it was nice to know he'd have something to give the citizens of Ponyville when he got there. He was giddy just thinking about it. The third and fourth piles were those that he treasured the most: his journals and albums. It was a rather impressive pile, if he did so himself. Sure, half of his journals contained only records, but he could accompany each record with a story if he were asked; one of the perks of having the memory of a librarian.
A warm smile spread across the reptile's maw as the image of that old tree sprung into his mind. He could only imagine what new literature had sprung up over the past centuries, and he had nothing but time to read every single one of them. Maybe he'd write a few of his own, he certainly had plenty of material, and a keen writing claw to match it. The only problem would be getting used to writing with such a tiny quill again. Those feathers could be fragile, and as gentle as he may try to be, Spike was still a dragon. He'd most likely have to stick to telling verbal accounts of his life, rather than- Oh, wait, that was the solution! He could get somepony to dictate for him. That would certainly be a strange feeling, after he had spent the happiest years of his life as a scribe for somepony else. Tangents aside, the dragon scooped up pile two in one claw, and piles three and four in the other, and took to the sky. He'd come back for the others afterwards.
The rug was dry, so Spike set it down gently on the grass and placed a few rather large gems around the edges to avoid it blowing away if a sudden gust of wind caught it. With the scene set, and everything he needed already there, all that was left to do was wait. The sun hung high in the sky, so it couldn't be any later than noon; he still had quite some time to wait.
A quick inspection of his forearm proved quite conclusively that he was overdue for a bath, and on such a lovely day, what could be better? The only thing that stopped Spike from just jumping into the water was the fear that any sort of splash would ruin the rug. Oh, and the fact it wasn't nearly deep enough, or wide enough, to hold the dragon. So, it stood to reason that there was only much he could do to rid himself of the grime. Caked on blood was easily removed with claws, dirt was simply rinsed away, and, apart from a few scars here and there, he felt like a new dragon.
No, he didn't feel like a new dragon. In fact, he felt like an old one, a very old one, and that was the furthest thing from bad he could think of. He felt like that little baby dragon once more, packing his bags and preparing for he and Twilight Sparkle's departure to their new home of Ponyville. What awaited him upon arrival? Would he make lots of new friends? Would he go on countless adventures? Would he maybe fall in love? A snicker escaped the dragon's lips as he gazed down at the shining fire ruby, fresh out of the river. What he wouldn't give to go back and do it all again.
Every moment of elation, every snippet of laughter, and even every sustained torment of heartache. He would do it all again, just to hold her in his arms that one last time, to kiss her lips for that one second longer, and to spend those afternoons just talking the hours away. She was his perfect treasure, in life and in death, and he owed her so many roses. "We'll start again when I arrive," he said to no one in particular. "Summer Sun celebration can't be too far away. We'll make a date of it." A wide grin formed, or maybe it just never left, and Spike let his imagination come alive.
He could see it all as clear as the snout on his face. Ponyville was decorated from the the tallest branch to the lowest stoop, and merriment was in the air. As the dragon walked through those crowded streets, he was greeted on all sides by friendly faces, and not a single one paid the young drake any mind. It didn't matter though, he had his sights set so much higher. "Hello, Spike." Twilight greeted him as he walked past his beloved caretaker, who was currently occupied levitating a piece of ribbon into its proper place for Rainbow Dash to hammer it into place. "Hey, Spike." The pegasus' tone certainly showed her level of concentration on the task at hoof, as she really only noticed the dragon's presence from Twilight mentioning it. He greeted them each in turn, but his sights were set higher still.
Carousel Boutique's doors announced Spike's arrival with a pleasant chime, and the mare behind the counter greeted him with a smile that could put the sparkle of a diamond to shame. No words were spoken between the pair, but so much was said in just the look they gave one another. Slowly, but surely, he made his way to her, and she met him halfway. Their eyes never lost sight of each other, not until they closed in preparation for their lips to meet. Rarity's lips were a lot colder and harder than he remembered, but it was the thought that counted, right? No, wait, something was definitely wrong. She seemed to still be enjoying herself, so it wouldn't hurt if he just cracked his eyes a little bit to see what was going on.
Spike couldn't stop himself from laughing upon seeing that he was in the process of kissing the fire ruby, and not a small laugh, either, no, the dragon was laughing deep and hard, tears welling up in his eyes. Crying wasn't something he would call an uncommon occurrence, but this time it felt like a momentous occasion. The colossal reptile rolled onto his back in a matter that more resembled a lapdog, and laughed until his lungs could laugh no longer. Out of breath and red in the face, Spike just allowed himself a few moments to stare at the clouds; he hadn't done it in decades, and he couldn't for the sake of him remember why.
"That one looks like candy!" He heard Pinkie Pie exclaim, her hoof waving wildly at a cloud just to the right of his head. To be fair, it did look entirely like a piece of candy, if that candy was a jawbreaker. "Pinkie," Twilight began, "you think every cloud looks like candy."
"Yep!" Laughter rang out between the six mares, but the dragon remained silent, simply looking at his beloved friends with a smile plastered across his face. He was still recovering from the previous laughter, anyway. No, Spike was content to just enjoy their company. Wait, what was that? Had nopony noticed that one yet? It was finally his time to shine, and he wasn't going to let it slip through his claws. His arm shot out, his finger following soon after as he pointed towards a cloud in the dead centre of his sight. "Hey, that one looks like a rabbit!" The mares all went silent for a few moments, probably examining the cloud for themselves, and Spike awaited a response. It was then that he remembered where he was, and another chuckle escaped his lips. He was alone in that clearing, but not for long. These were his finally hours of loneliness.
The sun hung low in the sky, it wouldn't be long before it kissed the horizon and welcomed the night, ushering in Spike the Dragon's new beginning. A smile rested on his titanic jaws that once cracked bones, and it wouldn't be departing anytime soon. For the first time in centuries, it felt natural to smile, like he truly was that young drake from Ponyville, awaiting a day of excitement and fun. Celestia couldn't be far now, and just seeing her face again was just going to make a grand day grander. Fully prepared, brimming with excitement and anticipation, and out of breath from his merriment, Spike rested his head in his claws, and watched the sunset.
Right on schedule, Celestia's form appeared over the horizon, accompanied by the gorgeous glow of a full moon. Everything had just aligned perfectly for the dragon of the hour, it would seem, and Spike certainly wasn't complaining. The years may have not been kind to him, but the Princess remained untouched by the crude hooves of time. She looked just as the day he was hatched, and even a being of his size couldn't help but feel small in wake of her pure majesty. As she neared, Spike, for the first time in decades, stood on two feet, and bowed. He must've looked rather ridiculous doing so, sort of like a dog when they did that party trick, but it was the only way he really knew how to bow. "Princess," Spike began, trying his best to keep from crying on such a happy day, "it's been way too long."
Spike fell back onto four legs, tears beginning to fall from his eyes, and a smile so wide painted across his face that his cheeks actually hurt. Celestia, on the other claw, looked like nothing at all. Her face was blank, as though she was looking at a stranger. Well, Spike would just have to change that, wouldn't he? He may have screwed up their last meeting, but he was ready to prove to her that he was Ponyville appropriate, and that the little drake she remembered was still inside this giant slab of a body.
First thing was first, Celestia needed to be comfortable! With one massive claw, Spike gestured towards the rug, motioning her over. The alicorn, however, made no signs of budging, her eyes just following his claw, flinching the slightest bit whenever it made any sudden movements. So, some bridges still had to be extinguished and rebuilt. That was fair enough. If she was afraid of the claw, the claw would just have to prove itself trustworthy. With one fluid motion, one of Spike's claws reached for the rug, gently moving it from under the gems keeping it down, and over to where Celestia was once standing. The reason this was possible was all thanks to his other claw, which scooped his guest up while she was focused entirely on the first claw. Deceptive, yes, but he was verydelicate, and the alicorn was placed down on the rug without a single bump or scratch. Celestia's initial reaction was, understandably, to panic, but the worry in her eyes vanished as soon as her hooves touched the smooth, well cleaned fabric of the rug. Or, at least, that's what Spike assumed the fabric was like; he did a pretty good job of cleaning it, if he said so himself.
Now that she was comfortable, the next step was for the dragon to prove that he was the same as he always was, and what better way to do that than with a walk down memory lane? Reaching towards the pile of albums, Spike grabbed a particularly juicy little book that covered the time period between Twilight's pregnancy, and her foal's wedding. Obviously, the quickest way to Celestia's heart would be through her student, right? Spike may have aged, but he was still that clever little drake who knew how to get what he wanted. Opening the book to the fourth page, which contained the picture of Spike holding Twilight's little treasure, Orion, in his claws not too long after the birth. The colt was fast asleep, and Spike had the biggest grin on his face. Well, it wasn't the biggest, but it was pretty big. The grin currently on his face definitely beat it, though, maybe just by size alone. "Do you remember Orion? I just found this album in my hoard, and I just couldn't stop thinking about how much mayhem that little guy caused! Remember when he and Twilight visited you in Canterlot, and he locked your guards in the dungeon when they tried to catch him? I swear, I couldn't stop laughing!" Spike's laughter echoed through the night, but it seemed the princess wasn't in the mood to join him in the merriment. Her eyes glanced over the page, but her enthusiasm just wasn't there.
It was then that it struck him. What was he thinking?! Here he was trying to cheer up the Princess, and what does he do? Shows her pictures of ponies she loved who are now long dead. That was a terrible way to cheer up anypony! Placing the book back in the pile, Spike reconsidered his entire strategy. The fire ruby's golden chain jingled slightly in his claw as he toyed with it, and that seemed to catch the Princess' attention as well. She really was acting rather like a foal at this stage. She could at least say 'hi'. Well, if she wasn't going to do the talking, Spike would just have to carry the conversation all by himself, and he knew just where to take it. He turned to the alicorn with a great, big smile on his face, and he began to speak. "So, about Ponyville..." He had to be extremely smooth with this whole thing, otherwise his chances might be in trouble. Luckily, he had recently come to the realisation that he was Spike the Dragon, and charm was his middle name. Actually, no, 'Spike Charm Dragon' sounded a little lame.
"I was thinking that you should go there first, and let them know what's going on. That way they don't have this gigantic dragon just dropping by and saying he belongs. That'd be a bit weird, right?" He could hardly contain his excitement now, it was really going to happen. "I could start by showing them a few albums, you know, like a public gallery of my photos! They'll like that, right? Photos are still cool?" Spike was practically jumping for joy now, and by 'practically' he meant literally. The earth shook under the dragon's titanic weight every time he hit the ground, but he didn't care. "And then I'll trace back their family trees and find all of them! I'll find Orion's part, Snow's part, I'll make sure not to miss a single pony!" Despite the tremors beneath her, Celestia still didn't shift an inch, her eyes were merely locked on the sky, probably at her sister's moon. Made sense, he supposed, Luna was banished for a thousand years, and his 'banishment' was almost that long. Luna still beat him by a few centuries, though. He'd have to laugh about that with her later. "I can't wait to tell them all about my valiant wooing of the Lady Rarity, or the time I saved the Crystal Empire, or even that time I tried to be Applejack's ser-"
Spike's stomach hit the ground at surprising force, his legs splayed out beside him. Upon closer inspection, and after a few moments of recovering from being winded, the dragon noticed that his limbs were locked in place by a yellow magic field, that of Celestia. With a chuckle, he looked back to his guest, who had obviously gotten quite sick of the jumping. "Okay, Celestia," Spike began, the smile returning to his face, "I get it. No more jumping, right?" But the magic didn't disperse, and he still couldn't move. Celestia, finally, looked back at the dragon, and her blank expression was replaced with a frown, tears streaming down her face. The alicorn was shaking, but her magic remained strong. When she spoke, her words shook with her. "I'm sorry, Spike. I am so sorry." The image of the letter Spike received from her came to mind, the word 'sorry' standing out far more prominently than before. The smile that had been so contently resting on the dragon's lips faded, and his reply came in almost a whisper, "Sorry about what?..."
It was then that the sound came to him: leathery wings clawing at the sky. Lacking the finesse of a pegasus' feathers, or the buzzing repetition of a changeling, a dragon was soaring from above. But, it wasn't just one dragon, no, the sound was too intense for that. He knew he should've looked up, but his eyes couldn't leave those of his only friend in the world. Even though he could hear the roars of his oncoming attackers, the gentle whimper of the alicorn blared in his head like nails on a chalkboard. He didn't want her to cry; he didn't want to make anyone cry. He thought he already made that clear all those years ago.
When the first set of claws dug into his back, the dragon was convinced that he had never felt such pain before, but that was before that set was joined by many others, some accompanied by fangs. He felt warm blood splash against him, heard vicious predators lick their lips and go back for more. Spike struggled in desperation against his bonds, but found that the alicorn's magic was far too strong for even him to fight. He let out a scream, unlike one he had ever made before. It wasn't reminiscent of the screams of his childhood, when some minor peril spiralled his way, and it wasn't similar to the screams of anguish he had released when his friends departed him, it was bloodcurdling, it was the cry of prey left helpless at the claws of its predator. It was the scream of a dying dragon.
The once strong guardian of Ponyville's jaws clasped shut, being held by another bright yellow field of magic. His scream was replaced by a muffled wail, tears stinging at his eyes before falling unrestrained. A thousand blades were cutting into him, but he could do nothing but bear it. This resistance was, however, challenged when a sound shook through his body. It was a wet, drawn out, tearing sound, finished finally by a sickening pop that sent a shockwave through the bound dragon. His muzzle strained against the bonds with such intensity that he swore his jaw would dislocate. Spike the dragon had just lost a wing, and the pain was indescribable.
The severed wing fell beside Spike with an anticlimactic thud, almost as though it held no weight, and the pitter-patter of droplets of his blood were welcomed into the ever-growing crimson pool below the guardian. Once purple scales now shone a gristly red in the newly born moonlight, though Spike was unable to see it. He was close to passing out, to just leaving himself to the dragon's devices, every blink of his tear-filled eyes brought another hazy vision of fantasy before crashing him back to reality. One moment he saw himself standing by Applejack's side as he watched the timberwolves fleeing in terror, and the next he saw himself lying face down in the mud as the wolves enjoyed their meal. Fate had never been kind to Ponyville's black sheep, but did he deserve this? Is this what it all led up to? Spike felt a thousand blades retract from his back, and heard the sound of the dragons' wings, a swarm leaving their prey to gather in a group around him. The suddenness of it shook him. Had Celestia stopped them? Was the purpose of their attack just to cripple him to ensure he would stop his pursuit of them? He was bleeding badly, his back screamed in pain, but Spike the dragon allowed himself to feel hope for his life, just the tiniest bit. That hope was dashed against the rocks when claw slashed across his snout, eliciting a muffled cry from the bound dragon as blood dripped from the newly created wound.
"Do you remember me, Spike?" The voice belonged to the green dragon from earlier, but Spike didn't want to acknowledge it. He kept his eyes clenched shut, shaking as much as the bonds allowed him to. He was scared, just a scared baby dragon wanting to go home. "Look at me!" Another swipe of a claw, another wound, and more blood. Spike was so sick of seeing blood, but he opened his eyes anyway, meeting those of his aggressor. "There you go," he began, a sickeningly pleased grin spread across his maw, "isn't it better now that we can see each other?" Spike's eyes immediately darted to Celestia, pleading for mercy. The Princess was, however, not capable of giving it to him. The alicorn was trembling, tears falling from her tightly shut eyes, her horn glowed, but it was the only part of her that seemed in any way radiant as a princess should be. Spike was sorry for that. The claw once again caught Spike, forcing him to turn back to the dragon tormenting him. "I said look at me, and I meant it."
Spike gave no reply, he wasn't able to, and even if he could, he doubted he had the strength. He felt the crimson liquid under him; its slight heat unsettled him to say the least. The taste invaded his mouth, a few droplets making the journey from his snout to his gritted teeth. The image came to him of a young dragon fighting his first battle; of powerful jaws that could tear through flesh and shatter bones. This image was followed of a dragon, younger still, who placed his lips against those of a mare for the first time as time seemed to fail around them. Both visions ended abruptly when his head was forcibly jerked to look at his pile of albums and journals. "You've been a busy boy, haven't you?" The dragon's condescending tone would've inspired a witty response in Spike's younger days, but in the current situation, it only further ignited the panic that was raging in his gut. "All those memories, all the hours spent writing." Spike's heart was racing, a deeper fear growing in him that far outweighed that for his own life. The dragon stooped down low, whispering harshly, "What about all the memories of those dragons you killed?" Suddenly, the night was lit up, orange flames engulfing the pile. Spike's heart shattered in his chest.
A young dragon stood behind a camera, staring at six smiling mares. With a newly practised precision, he lined up his shot, and his claw hit the button. The flash went off, and slowly, the mares were taken by the flame. One by one, each memory was going to be absorbed into the inferno, and all Spike could do was watch. He wanted to cry, but he was out of tears. He wanted to break free and save them, but he was trapped. He wanted to plead for his life, but was it even worth living? Not one to give Spike time to recover, the green drake turned Spike back away from the burning heap and forced him to look at him. He still looked eerily pleased with himself, and Spike had nothing but hatred for him. A low growl filled the larger drake's throat, the only sound he could successfully make. "You get what you deserve, Spike. You should know that by now." There was no malice in his voice, nor was there any emotion of any sort. It was sort of like the way a teacher would speak to the pupil they'd long given up on, but were under contractual obligation to teach. Twilight had used that tone very often.
Twilight Sparkle smiled softly, a newborn foal cradled safely in her hooves. It had been months in the making, months of suffering and pregnancy cravings, and mood sings, and dragged on thoughts that went nowhere due to the stress of having a pony growing inside of her, but it was all worth it. Spike smiled from his place behind the camera, and the flash went off. This scene was too swallowed by the fire, lost to the ages. He missed her.
There was a sudden tug at his claw, and Spike's grip had never tightened more. His eyes darted quickly to the source of the tugging and found a green hand, a golden chain clenched between its talons. For a moment their eyes met once more, and there was a ferocity to Spike's gaze that he'd never experienced before. He growled again, but this was not just a hateful growl, it was a warning. Nothing would part him and the fire ruby. Nothing would take Rarity away from him. They could try, the entire world could try, but nothing was pulling that ruby away from him while he drew breath. Every tug was met with stronger resistance, and, despite the dragon's best efforts, the ruby was staying put. It was only when Spike saw the dragon lower his head that his heart caught in his throat. The cruel irony of it hit him before the dragon's jaw did, but the anticipation was far worse than the pain. A single crack was all that signified the loss of the hand, accompanied shortly thereafter by Spike's muffled cry.
Day Four Hundred and Thirty Nine.
I'm not sure if I can keep I can't keep doing this. I'm scared, I'm still struggling to sleep, I can't eat right, I'm sc. I killed another dragon today. He flew too close, at least I think it was a he, and I just flew to him and killed him. His eyes, they were so dead. They stared into nothing, and a fly flew onto one of them, and I kept expecting to see them blink it away, but they didn't. I just sat and watched this fly walk all over an open eye for minutes, and it sickened me. What am I doing here? Is this really what Celestia sent me here to do? Can I even do anything else?
The entry, along with several thousand others, crackled into chars; another victim of the flames.
The blood loss was getting to him, his eyelids felt heavy, but his eyes remained locked on the fire ruby now dangling from his lost claw. "Tzarif said this was the reason he got away the first time. You must really like this gem." A sadistic grin grew across the green bastard's face, and he slowly raised the gem to his lips. "P-Please!" The word was muffled, and it was quiet from exhaustion and pain, but it was Spike's last chance. He couldn't lose her again, not after how far he'd come. "Please, d-don't!" Spike had thought he was out of tears, but more seemed to be found, rolling down his cheeks.
In the shine of the ruby, glistening with its owners blood, Spike could see it all. The first meeting they had in Ponyville's Town Hall, his first birthday in Ponyville, their first kiss, and their last kiss. He saw the first time he held her in his arms, the first time he told her he loved her. Before Spike was the love of his life, the only thing that kept him going through centuries of pain and loneliness. "Rarity, I'm sorry..." It was only a whisper, barely audible even to him, but as the fire ruby lowered into the green dragon's jaws, and the last piece of happiness Spike had disappeared forever in a loud, disgusting crunch, it was all he could say. The pain that one sound brought made his wounds fade into obscurity; she was gone, and nothing would bring her back.
A single mare laid asleep on Spike the dragon's bed, a content smile on her face. Her mane was a mess, her makeup was almost entirely gone, but she was happy, happier than she had been in a long time. She knew she had to get up soon and go back to her home, where her husband would throw question upon question at her about where she had been, but for those short, blissful moments between sleep and awaking, Rarity had never felt more at peace. There were butterflies in her stomach, and she felt like a schoolyard filly with a crush on the cute, shy colt who always treated her like a princess. She never wanted to lose that; she never wanted to lose him. Maybe it was lo- A sudden flash jolted her out of those thoughts, and she came face to face with a cruel realisation. It was time to return to reality. It was time to be a wife and a mother. She wasn't a schoolyard filly, she was a mare grown, and she had to act like it. The flames licked at her hooves, and as she left the library in a hurry, the building was swallowed into the abyss.
Spike had lost a lot of blood, and found it pooling underneath him, but he had never felt stronger. It was said that love gave you strength, and hatred drove a fighter to great lengths. A combination of the two was pulsating through Spike faster than blood was pouring out of him. The bonds strained to hold the guardian as he growled toward his prey. With great effort, he felt his back claws touch the ground once more, and with a powerful leap, he lunged forward, the bonds struggling to contain him. In the corner of his vision, he saw Celestia stir, and her eyes snapped open. Spike once again felt his stomach hit the ground with a powerful force, and he knew it was over. In front of him, the green dragon stood unharmed, the golden chain fell to the ground, unwanted and unneeded, and the broken guardian was no different. His usefulness had ended, and this was how he was repaid for his 'duty'.
"End it." A voice broke the silence, finally, and Spike recognised it instantly. It belonged to Princess Celestia herself. Her voice was shaky, she was trembling fiercely, and it appeared to Spike that she was trying not to be sick. The green dragon huffed and turned to the alicorn, a displeased scowl pasted across his crooked muzzle. "Why end it? I'm just getting started! This monster needs to pay!" There was something in the dragon's voice that Spike didn't expect: emotion. There was something eerily genuine about the statement, and it appeared as though his tormentor was shaking. "End it, Kael." That voice was also familiar, as it belonged to the dragon that started it all: Tzarif. "Can't you see he's suffered enough?" The dragon didn't look as pleased as the guardian thought he would, he almost appeared to pity the dying drake. The green dragon, now identified finally as Kael, scanned through the crowd of dragons, expecting some sort of support, but found none. A liquid fell from his face to the ground. Spike had first thought it to be his blood from the dismemberment previously, but a closer inspection revealed that it was a tear.
Celestia moved from her place in the distance, and approached Kael, stopping to stand next to the crying drake. "Please," she began, her own tears joining his in the grass, "no more." A hoof gently rested on the dragon's shoulder, a hoof which Spike himself longed to feel, and the green drake shook it off promptly, approaching the bound dragon once more. Spike looked up to meet his gaze, and was instead met with a claw across his throat; more of his blood spilling onto the drowning earth below, and joining with the pool. It was over, and everyone knew it. Suddenly, everything became clear.
Spike's eyes followed Kael's previous path, looking through the crowd of dragons, huddled together in the night. He saw no monsters, no savages or barbarians, he instead saw brothers who had been robbed of their kin, he saw mothers who had lost their sons and their mates, he saw hatchlings who had grown without a father, and it was all because of him. Ponyville had slept peacefully, but the roost had lived every day in fear and mourning. How many times did a son go off in search of a father, only to meet with his fate? How many times had a family wept at the loss of their own? The bonds faded away from his limbs, letting them fall useless and limp on either side of him. A glance to Celestia showed that the alicorn had finally returned his gaze, and she spoke, even though Spike couldn't hear her. The words looked to be 'I'm sorry', but he couldn't be sure. She didn't have to be sorry; he got what he deserved.
Ten.
The pain completely faded away, leaving only a melancholy numbness. The numbness itself wasn't the melancholy part, no, that'd be silly. It just signified that the end was close.
Nine.
Nine hundred and forty-three years of life, and what did he accomplish? The burning pile to his right proved that his written exploits would never make it to the world, nor would anypony look at his albums and marvel at how small the dragon had once been.
Eight.
His memories were his own, and nopony alive, excluding Celestia, had shared in any of them. So many adventures would be lost to time if he died.
Seven.
It was strange that he used the word 'if' as though there was still a choice in the matter, or a chance things could go another way. The end was coming, and he knew that, but part of him still clung to life. Maybe it was just the hatchling in him, still trying to see all he could.
Six.
Was there more to see, though? That was the great question, was it not? Was there an afterlife?
Five.
Did dragons and ponies have the same afterlife? Would he get to see them all again after so long? Would they still remember him, or even recognise him the way he was? He hoped he could at least go back to a happier age, if it was at all possible.
Four.
But what of good and evil? Surely, his friends would be in the best possible place for all the good they did for the world, and he... He wasn't so sure.
Three.
He had done terrible things in his life. He had done some good, that much was certain, but for the majority of his life, he had butchered his own kind with ruthless efficiency.
Two.
Maybe it was best not to think of it. If the afterlife existed, it was not his place to decide where he was going. He'd have to find out when he got there.
One.
It was cold that night; terribly cold. Spike yearned for the snug little basket he had loved when he was only a baby. Things had been so simple then, and the only thing he had to worry about was being woken up too early. It was funny, really, where the mind went just before the end.
Zero.
Celestia watched as Spike the dragon, the monster she herself had created, faded from the world. He was a ginormous beast of a dragon, dwarfing the largest the Princess had seen before him, but he had passed just like any other, not with a bang, but with a whimper. "You have our word, and a dragon's word is its bond." The words went in one ear and out the other. A deal sealed with blood was not one worth remembering. "Then I wish you safe passage to your new home, Kael. May your people thrive and recover." A response with more courtesy than concern. The dragons would be fine. After all, what could possibly threaten a dragon?
When every one of the execution party had finally departed from the clearing, Celestia fell to her knees, and she wept. She wept for Spike, she wept for herself, and she wept for every lie she had to tell. Spike's image was burned deep into her mind, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't be rid of it. She saw his face as her binding spell took effect. She heard his screams as the dragons clawed into his back. She felt his blood on her hooves, despite the fact she was entirely clean. She heard the crackling of flames as they engulfed everything he worked for. But the crackling wasn't part of that mental image, it was right in front of her.
Without a second thought, the alicorn rushed over to the burning books, her magic desperately scooping up as much water from the river as she could muster, but, part of her knew it was too late. The fire met the water with a sizzle, smoke wafting from the blackened pages in steady wisps. One by one, she inspected the albums and journals, hoping to find a few unspoiled remnants of Spike's life. But, she found nothing but ash and charcoal. "Spike, I am so sorry..." Tears stung at her eyes, and she wiped them with the back of her hoof. She had cried enough, and more tears wouldn't do anything to help. The dragon gave no answer, as though his mouth was once again bound.
It was one life in exchange for thousands. What choice did she have? The dragons swarmed into Canterlot, bringing great panic and fear, but no destruction. They sought her out directly, speaking words of negotiation. They demanded that she deliver to them the monster she unleashed upon them; they pleaded for their lives after losing everything. Was Equestria not their home as well? Did they not have the right to safety? She explained to them that he was there for a reason, Ponyville needed to be defended, at all costs. It was the heart of the empire! The Elements of Harmony were still a beacon of hope, in death just as much as they were in life. No risks could be taken, that much had stayed true. It was the only solution to the problem that spared the most lives. She made the only call she could.
Celestia slowly made her way to Spike's colossal head, being careful to hover just high enough to avoid standing in his blood. With a gentle touch, and a precise movement of her hoof, the alicorn closed both of the dragon's eyes, trying her best to show him that much respect at least. Despite his size, it was hard for her not to see the sweet little dragon she had seen hatched before her eyes. It was hard for her not to picture him scurrying off behind Twilight on some grand adventure for the umpteenth time. It was harder still for her not to remember the letter she received no more than a day ago.
The only solution was one that had no room for further compromise. In exchange for their word, she would give them what they wanted; she would give them Spike. Their word was their bond, she knew, and the deal was the best she could hope for. The dragons would relocate to a roost outside of Ponyville's sight, and live peacefully. But, should another threat, be it dragon, changeling, or any other of the sort encroach on the perimeter of the town, the dragons would deal with it. She traded the defence of one dragon for the defence of potentially hundreds, was that not the right thing to do? Would any other pony done the same in her place? Surely, they would take the path that saves the most lives, pony and dragon alike. What was one life in the grand scheme of things?
As Celestia began her long, slow flight back to Canterlot, she gave a final look back at the body of the dragon she had sent to die. The moonlight caught the bloody mess that was once his back, and shimmered beautifully in the most mocking way she could think of. The letter once again caught in her mind; still rolled perfectly and sitting against the support of her study's chair. She hadn't brought herself to read it, and there was a chance she never would. It wouldn't bring Spike back, and it wouldn't make her feel any better. She had made her decision, and what was done was done. Ponyville was no longer under threat, and the roost would flourish once more, free from fear. After all, what could threaten a dragon? With a broken heart, and a troubled conscience, Celestia knew the answer to that question. Betrayal.