//------------------------------// // Keep the Fires Burning // Story: Dragon Tales // by Shy-Brony //------------------------------// "Spike? Spike, good morning! Time to wake up!" Her horn lighting up, Twilight roughly yanked the covers off of the sleeping dragon, who buried his head beneath his pillow to avoid the blinding rays of the sun. This was also removed, albeit with much more resistance. She sighed. "Come on, Spike. It's already nine-thirty; the morning's half over!" With a grumble and a sigh of defeat, Spike rose from his comfy basket. Stretching to work out any stiffness, he climbed out of bed, lifting the basket to grab his toothbrush. "I don't see what the big deal is, Twi. It's the weekend, and the princess hasn't given you anything to work on. Why the hurry?" He waddled into the bathroom, shutting the door as Twilight continued to speak. "That's exactly my point! With nothing to do all weekend, I've decided to make something to do!" She struck a dramatic pose, a determined grin on her face. Spike emerged, eyeing the spectacle for a moment before heading downstairs to make breakfast. She eagerly followed him, checking off a checklist she had made late last night. "Lets see... At eleven, I'm going to join Rarity and Fluttershy at the spa; at three, I'll help Pinkie with baking--" Spike tuned her out, walking into the kitchen. Honestly, why she obsessed over checklists so much was beyond him. What's worse, she seemed to be the only one in her entire family who took list-making to the same extremes as she did. Mr. Nightlight came close, but his passion was more about charts and graphs than lists. Spike had once made the fatal mistake of asking what the difference was when he was younger; the stallion went so far as to pick Twilight up from school early to help him explain. That's five hours of my life I'll never get back. He forced those thoughts out of his head, focusing on the task at hand. Fortunately, there was plenty to work with, thanks to the countless foods given to Twilight as belated thanks for saving the realm every year. Of course, this presented the problem of having far too much to choose from. Deciding it was too early to worry about it, he opened the cupboards and retrieving pancake mix, he went to work. That's what he loved most about cooking: the privacy. Rather, it was the unspoken agreement that he was not to be interrupted while he was in the kitchen. He used this "Spike Time" for a number of things; today, he would try to think of something to do with himself. With Twilight booked the entire day, it seemed he had the day to himself. Then again, there was nothing keeping him from going with her. He scoffed. No way he would get caught up in that girly nonsense again, especially not a spa trip. He had gone once, about a year ago, on the urging of Cadence. It may well have been the most boring experience of his life. He grumbled at the memory. That's three more hours wasted. The sweet smell of pancakes snapped him out of his memories, and one by one, he stacked them high on a single plate. With a grunt, he carried the plate out to the living room table, where Twilight was waiting. Once the food was set, she used her magic to grab extra plates, utensils and of course, maple syrup. "So what about you, Spike?" Twilight asked. "What are you doing today? I know you're not going to just stay in the library all day." His mouth full, he could only shrug. At last he swallowed, saying, "I don't really know. I might just go for a walk around town." "Hmm..." she said, rubbing her chin. "That sounds like a good plan. Just stay away from the Everfree forest this time, okay?" He glared. She had promised to never talk about that again. "Sure, so long as you promise not to try any unfinished spells while you're out." "Touché," she said with a grin. They ate in silence for a moment, then Twilight said, "You know, Spike, why don't you try to meet other ponies in town?" "Huh?" "Well, we've lived here for years, and hardly anypony knows you. Don't you think you should fix that?" She paused, giving him a chance to argue. He didn't take it. He had no comeback for that other than the fact that it was the weekend, and he really didn't mind. He'd bet half his scales that she knew, and was just waiting for the chance to shoot him down. That phony grin was just her way of declaring checkmate without seeming pretentious. He remained silent, finishing off his meal. "So that's a yes?" "Yeah, yeah. I'll go meet some other ponies." Finishing the last of his breakfast, he added, "It might be fun." "I'm sure it'll be good for you, and I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself." she said, smiling warmly. Her horn lit up, and she levitated a small bag of bits from the study, placing them in his hands. "Here. You don't have to meet anyone if you don't have to, but at least go have some fun." Scooping up the dishes, she walked to the kitchen. "I'll take care of these. I have some time." Spike looked at the clock. It was already ten o' clock, and the way Twilight did dishes, even that small amount would take her at least half an hour. Coupled with how long it would take to get ready, find the salon or her friends, etc... Smiling, he gripped the bag and headed for the door. "Thanks, Twilight!" He gave a short wave before leaving. Why did I let her talk me into this? Over an hour later, Spike found himself wandering the mountains near the outskirts of Ponyville, and had yet to meet anyone. Of course, he had exchanged token greetings with a few shopkeepers, but whatever conversation they offered quickly turned into an advertisement the second they saw his bits. Other ponies seemed to be otherwise occupied with their day, and his own inherent, age-induced shyness kept him from approaching anyone who looked free. He sighed. "I wonder if it's too late to head home. I could just tell Twilight nopony was out today. She'll understand." He turned around and began to walk home. "WHAT!?" A thundering shout ripped through the peaceful air, causing the very mountains to tremble and sending Spike into the air. He looked for the source, which was clearly the one structure he could see. It was less of a proper home or business, resembling either a large shack or a small barn, with windowless, wooden walls. It also had no door, but it was nearly impossible to see inside. From inside, increasingly loud swears and crashes could be heard, followed by frightened screams. He ran to the building, pressing himself against the wall. "What do mean it died!?" A furious, female voice rang out, punctuated by more crashes and screams. "Do you have any idea how backed up we are!?" "I'm so sorry!" A male voice said, scratchy from all the screaming. "I don't know what you want me to do!" Having heard enough, Spike dropped his bits and ran through the doorway, claws at the ready. Inside, a large, freshly-cooled forge sat in the back of the room, providing soft light. Numerous tools pieces of metalwork were on display on the walls, various metal ingots occupied a corner of the room, and an anvil sat in the center of the room, currently shielding a much larger grey stallion from a brown mare, who was holding a chair over his head. The stallion looked at Spike, as did the mare. With an annoyed huff, she lowered the chair and leaned against it. "What?" she asked in a sharp, impatient tone. When he didn't answer right away, she glared and said, "Well? If you don't want something, get lost!" The stallion stepped out from behind the anvil. "Come on, Mjolna. Isn't he exactly what we need right now?" She broke the chair over his head. "Idiot! We can't use his sac for this! It's way too small, and the town would be in an uproar if we killed him! Especially that librarian!" Dazed, it was all he could to to say, "I didn't mean that..." Snarling, she started beating him over the head with the broken legs. "So what did you mean, huh!? Speak up!" Spike watched them, unsure of what to say, or if he should say anything at all. More than anything, he was worried about the "killed him" part. Years ago, Celestia had told him about ponies who would hunt dragons of all sizes, then sell their bones and organs. Others would form groups, and hunt dragons simply because they thought they could. A baby like himself would be an easy target, even for just two ponies. He gulped, and started to back away. "Where do you think you're going?" she snapped, rushing over to block his path. She loomed over him, eyeing him like a predator watching its prey. Suddenly, a huge grin appeared on her face. "Cast Iron's got a point. You busy today?" "Uh--" "Of course not!" she said, pushing him into the smithy. "After all, that librarian isn't with you, so you must be free, right?" Still stunned, he didn't answer. The grin fell, and she gave him a light swat to the head. "Right!?" she repeated a little more forcefully. "R-right!" Spike said. "Great!" With a shove, she sent him flying into Cast Iron, the both of them landing in a heap. They looked up to see her putting on heavy looking armor and leather saddlebags. "Where are you going, Mjolna?" Cast Iron asked. She slung a huge broadsword onto her back. "I'm gonna go find a replacement. You stay here and have the kid heat the metal. Got it?" Cast Iron saluted. "Yes ma'am!" With a quick nod, she galloped away. Once she was out of view, Cast Iron turned to Spike and said, "You have no idea what to do, huh?" "Not a clue," he said. Sighing, Cast Iron lead him to the forge. He pointed at the pit, where a fleshy, deflated bag was sitting. "It's actually pretty simple. See, the sac Mjolna mentioned was a dragon's flame sac, which, of course, is where you generate your fire. We use it to heat the metal instead of regular fire, since it burns hotter and has certain magical properties. All I need you to do is heat the metal, and I'll take care of everything else. You got all that?" He tapped his chin. "Yeah, I think so. Just tell me when to start!" Cast Iron went to the corner to retrieve an iron ingot, laying it on the anvil. "Okay, let 'er rip!" Spike complied, exhaling a long stream of flame that blanketed the anvil in fire. When the flames receded the ingot was glowing bright orange. Cast Iron sighed and glared at him. "Well that was... underwhelming," he said. "I need that thing to be white-hot. Is that all you've got?" Spike looked at the ground, scuffing it with his foot. "I don't know... yes?" With a heavy, slightly exaggerated groan, he went outside, quickly returning with a beautiful red gem. Spike recognized it immediately. "A fire ruby!? Where'd you get that!?" Cast Iron tossed it to him. "Quit squealing and eat. It should improve your firepower." He didn't have to say anything, as the gem was already halfway gone, Spike finishing it in a second. He burped, patting his stomach. "So when does it--" he was interrupted by a gout of fire. "Whoa!" "Yeah, that happens." He tapped the anvil impatiently. "C'mon, we're burning daylight. Let's get back to work." Once again, Spike breathed fire, the stream much hotter than before. When it receded, the iron burned with a blinding white glow. Cast Iron grinned. "Perfect!" Grabbing his sledgehammer, he struck the iron, sending sparks everywhere. After a number of strikes, the metal took a recognizable shape, and he proceeded to mold it into various others. Spike watched him, not completely understanding but nonetheless mesmerized. He had never seen a blacksmith's work up close before, not even when he went to help pick up Shining's equipment. This was a once in a lifetime chance, and he wasn't going to waste it. He laid another ingot on the anvil. "Next!" Spike breathed another mighty flame, and then another. Between each job, they filled the brief gap with bits of conversation. Cast Iron was a assistant himself, and had been working under Mjolna for years, going so far as to earn his cutie mark along the way. Apparently, their families rivaled each other in the past, and they were the only members to consider merging their talents. Of course, this had the added effect of leaving them both disowned and homeless, thus the rather raggedy place of business. It worked out in the end, and now they could honestly take credit for most of Ponyville metalwork, including Big Mac's trademark harness. Likewise, Spike shared the various adventures he had experienced with his friends, giving special attention to the events surrounding the Crystal Empire. He was shocked to hear that neither Cast Iron nor Mjolna had heard of the numerous disasters, catastrophes, and calamities that had befallen the small town. The duo rarely ventured into town at all, to the point that most of their business was attracted by word-of-mouth. This little problem wasn't helped by their location, which was rich with materials, reducing their need to go into town for anything but food. By the time the work was finished and the conversation topics had run dry, hours had passed, and the moon sat high in the sky. They sat outside, each with a drink: juice for Spike, cider for Cast Iron. At Cast Iron's insistence, Spike stuck around to wait for Mjolna to come back. At long last, they saw a rather large silhouette coming up over the horizon. Soon, the moonlight hit the figure, revealing it to be Mjolna, carrying an medium-sized dragon corpse on her back. Cast Iron put his drink down and ran to her side, helping her set the beast on the ground and looking over her surprisingly minor wounds. She shrugged him off. "Relax, I'm fine. Hey!" She waved at Spike, but he didn't budge. She cocked her head to the side and stepped forward. "Kid? You okay?" Spike stepped back, finding himself unable to tear his eyes away from the dead dragon before him. His instincts were acting up again, telling him to get far away from this mare, and fast. Cast Iron tapped his forehead, bringing him out of his stupor. "Hey. Wake up." He blinked at him. "Uh, yeah?" "Mjolna says to give you this." He tossed bag of gem to Spike's feet, scattering some over the ground. Spike fell to his knees, scooping up as many of the gems as he could carry, already shoving a few into his mouth. "I can have all this? Really?" "Yeah. We kept you away from home all day; it's only fair. Oh, and that's not your favor." He looked up, confused. "That's your payment. You can call in your favor whenever you like." He flashed a grateful smile. That smile fell as he realized just how late it was. He swallowed, then screamed at the top of his lungs, gathering his gems and bits and running off. "There he is!" The moment Spike walked into town, he was surrounded by its citizens and carried off to the library, where Twilight was barking orders to crowds of weary ponies. When she saw him, she flew over and carried him into the library, setting him down in the living room. She looked him over, making sure he was safe, going so far as to inspect each of his gems with a peculiar beam of magic. Once she was satisfied, she sat down across from him with an stern glare. "Where have you been?" she asked, sounding very much like a stereotypical, worry-wart mother. "I know I told you to go out, but I never said for you to vanish until--" she glanced at the clock "--midnight!? Spike, what were you doing!?" "Well... um...," he stammered. He had never seen her so upset before. Not to mention the search party, and her mane being all frizzy... She deserved an explanation. He told her everything, from his trek through town, to meeting the blacksmiths, to his payment. She tensed up at the mention of the dragon, but quickly relaxed. When he was done, she sighed and smiled at him. "You've had a long day, huh?" Twilight rubbed his head affectionately. "I guess the last you need today is me overreacting." She yawned and headed upstairs, followed shortly by Spike once he safely stored the gems in the kitchen. After a quick hug from Twilight, he climbed into bed. "Goodnight, Twilight," he said, pulling the covers over his head. "Goodnight," she said. "Oh, and Spike?" "Yeah?" "Don't eat all those gems at once, okay? We don't want you getting sick again." He chuckled, already half-asleep. "Okay, okay." The lights went out, and he waited for the sound of snoring before biting into the gem that was hidden under his pillow.