There are many tales I could tell you this night. The Dragon Rebellion. The Second Rise of Chaos. The Time of Nightmare...and of course the famous fable of The Day Pinkie Pie had a Triple Espresso. All of these tales, and hundreds more, are where the true valor of ponies was tested. But of course, anypony has heard these stories time and time again, from the youngest of foals to the oldest of ponies. What is perhaps less known is that all of these are true. Where there is myth, there is history and truth.
And at the center of these stories is a single pony. But to properly understand this single pony, you must also know of his origins.
Please, sit, and let me tell you the Story of Tom.
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“SPIKE!”
Spike groaned at the familiar sound of his roommate, sister, mom, and otherwise lifelong friend yelled for him in that ever familiar tone, which once again ended a very nice ice cream dream right before the really good part. He glanced at the clock that sat next to the basket he called his bed.
3:45 in the morning.
Spike promptly went back to sleep.
Reality would have none of that as a familiar magenta hued aura lifted him unceremoniously, dragging him downstairs to the main lobby of the Ponyville Library, bringing himself face to face with a very exasperated unicorn.
“...didn’t we agree that you wouldn’t be allowed to wake me up before sunrise?”
The lavender unicorn’s face suddenly turned a bright red. “...Oh. right….um…..”
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“SPIKE!”
Spike groaned at the familiar sound of his roommate, sister, mom, and otherwise lifelong friend yelled for him in that ever familiar tone, which once again ended a very nice ice cream dream right before the really good part. He glanced at the clock that sat next to the basket he called his bed.
6:01 in the morning.
Spike rose from his bed, and walked downstairs, to find Twilight in the exact same position she was in the first time he was rudely awakened.
“....did you seriously stay right there and wait till one minute after sunrise to wake me up again?” Spike asked.
Twilight’s eyes darted around, carefully thinking of a response. “No, of course not, I obviously sat on the couch and read a book. I mean, what kind of crazy mare would stand around in the dark waiting for morning so that her assistant could help her with something? It’s preposterous.”
Spike always knew she was a bad liar, but this was a shining testament to that. Still, he would address that later. “So what do you need Twilight?”
Twilight cleared her throat. “Well Spike, what I need you to do is pack your things and leave.”
Images filled Spike’s head. Every mess he had made. Every smart aleck comment he’d ever made. All the small teases, all the trouble he’d caused over the years. Wondering what he did to eventually make Twilight want to throw him out onto the cold streets, where he would have to beg for scraps of food and sleep in a cardboard box in a dim alley somewhere. The dragon whelp began to hyperventilate.
“Whatever I did Twilight, I’m sorry!” Spike screamed, tears streaming down his face as he tightly hugged Twilight. “Please don’t throw me out! I’m too young to be a hobo!”
Twilight stared for a moment. “Uh, Spike? It’s Wednesday. Remember Sunday when I told you I’d be working on something super super important, and would need you out of the house for the day for safety? You even told me you were gonna make plans.”
Spike’s eyes suddenly dried up as he unlatched himself from his caretaker’s leg, a blush coming to his face. “...oh, right...um…..”
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But alas dear listeners, I do all of thee a disservice. For all who know of Tom would be remiss to remember his ever faithful squire and guide and friend. The one who told him of the troubles that came upon the land and awoke the mighty warrior.
I, of course, speak of Spike, the Whelp.
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Spike breathed in deeply as he left his home for the day, small backpack filled with a few things burdening his shoulders.
Still, he had an entire day to himself, and he was going to enjoy it.
Off in the distance, he heard the sounds of the Clock Tower’s bell ringing. Seven bongs. Spike smiled, ready to tackle the new day.
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The clock tower bonged eight times and Spike was already bored. He had already walked around, picked at his feet, and eaten the gems he had in his now lighter backpack, and all he was stuck doing now was sitting under a tree, and watching ponies walk by
Spike wished something interesting would happen.
He quickly regretted his wish as he heard the familiar sound of buzzing wings coming closer and closer. His eyes confirmed his fears as the sight of three cutie mark obsessed fillies, one on a scooter, the other two riding in a wagon. And to the dragon’s horror, the three of them came to a stop right in front of him. But what truly frightened Spike was the look in their eyes. That cold, dangerous look that he has seen bring terror upon ponies before.
They wanted help getting their Cutie Marks.
“Hi Spike. How’s it going?” Sweetie Belle squeaked, trying to be friendly before the inevitable question was asked.
“I’m fine. How are you guys doing?” Spike asked, mentally kicking himself. ‘You fool! Showing interest in their crusade is how they get you!’ a voice deep in Spike’s brain chided.
Apple Bloom noticed the moment of weakness and struck. “Actually Spike, we have an amazin’ idea on how to get our cutie marks. And we was wonderin’ if y’all would like to help us.” She smiled the widest, cutest smile she could muster.
“No” Spike responded flatly as he discreetly looked around for a means of escape.
But before he could escape, a few chilling words came from the pegasus of the group.
“OK, diplomacy has failed. Time for plan B.”
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And lo, was the squire entrapped by three demons who would use their wiles to force him into servitude, using their superior numbers and enchanted bindings, from which none could escape, whether they be dragon, pony, or griffon. And thus, they did secrete him away in their accursed chariot and take him away to commit unspeakable acts in their service. But luckily, the actions that would occur this day were instrumental in saving Equestria…
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Duct tape was perhaps one of the most versatile inventions ever crafted by pony hooves. It has been shown to be powerful enough to hold train engines together, to lift even the heaviest of loads, and hold even the most unruly of parts in place, and is standard issue on all military assignments, whether it be Celestia’s Solar Guard or Luna’s Night Guard.
What Spike had been blissfully unaware of before today was that duct tape was also an effective means of capturing dragons, and ensuring escape is impossible.
“....was it really necessary to use an entire roll of duct tape?” Spike sighed.
Before the three fillies could answer, the wagon came to a stop. And when he finally managed to sit up straight, he was filled with unspeakable horror. He saw a very familiar hole in the ground being blocked by a very familiar boulder.
“....why did you take me to the mirror pool?”
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If I may explain some history, dear listeners. The fabled Mirror Pool is a lake with an extraordinary ability. Any who enter this pool would be able to make a copy of themselves. However, these copies were not as formidable as the original. Much like how your reflection in a lake would be subject to the whims of the free moving water, so too were these copies.
Of course, in today’s day and age, the Pool is guarded by the Princesses finest guards. But in days long past, it was the sole duty of Tom to guard the way. And it was the intent of the demons to get past him.
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“You see Spike, we finally figured it out. We haven’t gotten out cutie marks yet because there isn’t enough time in the day to do all the cool stuff we should be doing. So we figure if there’s a whole bunch of us, we can get our cutie marks that much faster! Are we brilliant or what?”
Before Spike could point out the sheer insanity of Scootaloo’s statement, Apple Bloom made things ten times worse.
“And since there’s three of us, we can keep all the clones in check, so they don’t go all fun happy like Pinkie Pie’s did. After all, we make sure we don’t do anything stupid all the time!”
And then Sweetie Belle revealed the horrifying method to the madness. “We tried moving Tom out of the way, but he’s wedged in too tight. And we tried digging our way through, but the ground is really hard. But you dig through rocks and stuff all the time. You could probably dig through no problem! and then we could get our cutie marks! Wanna help?”
Any sense of control Spike may have thought he had over his vocabulary was suddenly absent. “Are...what….you...” Spike breathed in deeply, attempting to form a clear, concise, well thought out argument for why the Mirror Pool, regardless of how noble one’s intentions were, should not be used ever.
“Just when I thought you three couldn’t do anything crazier, you….you...you…..”
To Spike’s credit, he really did try.
“You three have gone completely and utterly insane! It’s not enough that only three are a hooffull, but now you want to make more of you! Did you learn nothing from what happened last time somepony messed with the mirror pool!? Why would I help you guys with this!?!?!?!?”
“I can get you a date with my sister.”
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Alas, there was a time when Spike the Whelp was just that: a young whelp with love in his heart for the fair maiden Rarity.
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With a mighty blast of magical green fire, the duct tape that bound Spike in place burned away, and with a an even mightier leap, Spike propelled himself out of the wagon and through the air, landing next to Tom. With speed and strength that seemed almost otherworldly, a small hole was dug, that was just big enough to allow a filly (or three) to squeeze through and make their way to the mirror pool below.
With barely a “thank you” and a mumbling about some reservations at the classy restaurant at the edge of town, the three fillies jumped into the hole to the pool below.
Spike chose not to follow them. He instead reached into his backpack, and pulled out a roll of parchment and a quill, and wrote the following message:
Possible class 4 problem
Send help if no further correspondence received by sundown
The sun help us all
Your loyal friend and servant
Spike the Dragon
P. S. If you do have to come to Ponyville, could you bring some donuts? I’ve been craving Joe’s donuts all week. Thanks, Celestia. Also, sorry about the duct tape.
Spike took a deep breath, and green flames billowed from his mouth, magically transporting the scroll to Canterlot. Then Spike turned his attention to the giant problem that was about to face the entirety of Equestria. Or more appropriately, the hole that he himself had dug (under extreme torture) that would trigger the problem.
Spike briefly entertained the thought of just sealing the hole and keeping the CMC and their clones down there until Celestia arrived in a few hours to deal with it, but Spike thought better of that: He may be a dragon, but he wasn’t a barbarian. So, with a heavy sigh, Spike made the decision to go down the hole and figure out how to minimalise collateral damage from there.
Spike hesitated for a second. He was fearful of the amassing of crusaders that was multiplying under his feet, knowing they could swarm him and halt any attempts at heroism. And yet every second he waited was another second that more crusaders came into being. These thoughts caused Spike’s scales to shake in fear.
And yet his patience proved to be a boon. In his haste to woo Rarity, the hole he had dug had endangered the structural integrity of the bigger hole that Tom had been guarding in the first place. And with a rumble (that seemed much louder to the young drake then it was in reality) the mighty boulder fell down the slightly bigger but now big enough for a boulder to fall through hole. And after a loud din (that Spike assumed was Tom rolling down the slide miraculously created by the rocks) there was an equally loud splash.
And a horrible thought entered Spike’s mind.
“What happens when a giant boulder lands in the mirror pool? Which is itself a very dangerous magical thing?”
A sudden mental image of a thousand boulders falling and crushing all in their path (including three occasionally annoying crusaders) buried itself into Spike’s cranium and refused to leave. It was the last bit of motivation he needed to jump down the hole.