"Venerax!" cried a familiar voice. The obsidian-black drake lifted his head from resting, noticing a group of other dragons about his age coming his way.
"Cirzoke, what is the meaning of this?" The drake stood from his small hoard of gold and gems, stretching out his muscles. All around the young dragons flew the elders of their kind, resting themselves in the warmth of the crater they migrated to. It was Venerax's second migration, and one of the rare opportunities amongst dragonkind to socialize with others of their species.
"We have decided to go on a raid, you in?" Several of the drakes looked excited at the prospect of a delightfully destructive raid in the near future. Venerax was not much of a warrior, preferring to rest here in the crater rather than go out on raids with the other drakes. Cirzoke was an old friend from his first migration, in that time they had caused much havoc amongst the local wildlife around the migration crater.
"Um, no. I'm sorry, but I do not really have any desire to go on a raid."
The lime green dragonling sidled up to Venerax. "Come on, you know you want to let out a little flame now and then. Besides, you're the smartest one among us and you have the longest flame!"
Venerax considered it. "Alright, I'll go Cirzoke. What are we raiding? Are we going after that phoenix nest in the next valley? Or perhaps that den of Diamond Dogs? Maybe we'll find a manitcore to harass?"
The other eleven dragons exchanged glances, large grins splitting their faces. "Better than any phoenix nest or Dog den. Venerax, we're going to hunt wyverns!"
"WYVERNS?! Are you insane Cirzoke!? The elders all say that wyverns are too dangerous for even them to fight!"
Cirzoke scoffed, "Have you ever even seen a wyvern? They're small, scrawny and shoot icicles. How dangerous could that be?" The others nodded their heads. "Besides, if we kill a wyvern in a raid, we'll be legends! Dragons and even those namby-pamby ponies will talk about our raid for years!"
"Nothing except the opening of Tartarus itself would make me hunt a wyvern, Cirzoke."
His peers shrugged their shoulders, "Fine then. Remember my face Venerax, because after we come back with a dead wyvern in our claws, everyone will." Cirzoke turned back to his raiders, "It's a long trip north to wyvern territory, eat as many gems as you can now. We'll probably be gone for a few weeks at the least."
Several beat their great wings, taking to the sky after gorging noisily on gems. Cirzoke turned back to the black drake still lying prostrate on a hoard of gems. "So long Venerax. Have fun playing it safe!"
"Wait!" shouted Venerax. "I'll go." The black dragon cursed his loyalty to his friend, and took wing northward to hunt wyverns in the polar tundras.
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Klondike felt like he was moving. He would lazily drift between consciousness and sleep, seeing the sunlight filter through the treetops as he was dragged to wherever he was being taken. Eventually, the smell of tea woke him up. But not just tea, the cloying smell of animal furs and partially rotted meat filled his nose. He tried to open his eyes, but they felt like the weight of mountains was on his head.
Forcing every ounce of strength into his eyelids, he cracked them open. He lay under a warm animal skin, on a lumpy bed that smelled of alcohol. He struggled to rise up, but felt sore in every part of his body. Klondike's head lulled towards the nightstand, on it lay several cups with steam rising out of them. Reaching out with his prehensile wing feathers he grasped at a cup, spilling it on the floor. He tried again and grabbed the second, bringing it to his lips he drank it down hot.
Klondike nearly vomited, besides tea that drink tasted of something alchemical. But the soreness of his bones eased, and he could actually lean up. Grabbing the third cup he swallowed it down, anticipating the bad flavor to come. He lay for a minute, letting the potion do its work. Sitting up in the strange bed he got a look at his surroundings. A cheerful fire crackled in a stone hearth. The walls were logs with mud mortar, and decorated with animal skins. A small table sat unattended, set with breakfast for one. Rising from the bed, Klondike stumbled over to the table.
Not bothering with silverware, he greedily ate down the oatmeal mash and biscuits that were laid out and still warm. Finishing his meal in minutes, he saw the glint of steel beside the hearth. Looking closer, he saw the outline of a sword in its sheathe. Standing from the table, he grabbed the sword and strapped it to his back.
"I'm borrowing this." he said to nopony. The weight of the weapon felt odd on his back, he most certainly was not a warrior, but he knew that this was no run of the mill blade that a soldier might wield. Pushing open the door of the cabin he walked out, determined to find that damn monster.
"Where do you think you're goin?" said a rough voice. Klondike turned to see Old Spin leaned back against a log, a wide brimmed hat tipped over his eyes and a wood axe laying next to him along with a pile of freshly chopped wood.
Klondike stared down the town drunk, "I'm going to find that monster, and I'm going to kill it."
Spin tipped the hat back, "Hmph, that's the funniest joke I've heard since Owayn said he would kill Venerax." the grey pegasus stated, spitting out a wad of chew.
"I mean it, I'll find it, and I'll kill that demon monster from Tartarus!"
Spin stood up, stretching out his legs. "And just how do you think you'll kill the Sun Eater? With mean words? How about a not-so-nice letter?"
Klondike grabbed the hilt of the sword in his mouth, awkwardly jerking it from its sheathe. "With this." he said.
"Please, you're not a warrior. You're a pencil pusher, a librarian that has seen more action with knitting sweaters than he has with a sword. You're more likely to kill yourself than even score a hit on that beast."
"To hell with you; thanks for the breakfast, but I have a monster to kill." Klondike began to walk away, but a crack sounded and suddenly his flank burned like fire.
"Congratulations kid, you're dead." Klondike looked back at Old Spin, who stood coiling up a bullwhip.
"What the hell was that for?!"
Spin threw the whip again, scoring a hit on Klondike's leg.
"That first one was for stealing my sword. The second was for the disrespect you gave me. And this one is to prove a point." Again the old pegasus lashed out with the whip, catching Klondike on the neck. "You died with the first hit, now it's just playing with its food."
Klondike rubbed the welts on his neck and leg, "What point are you trying to prove here?!" Spin cocked back his hoof again, Klondike saw another whiplash coming and jumped out of the way.
"Better. But you're still dead three times over. That beast has a tail that moves even faster than this whip, and from what I've seen, they pack one hell of a venom. You're still a dead stallion though, if you face off with it you won't last a minute."
"Then teach me how to fight! Teach me how to kill it!"
The old pegasus tossed down his whip, meandering over to his woodpile. "You think you have what it takes? You think a little training might somehow give you the skills to stop an apex predator?"
"It's a better option than letting it just pick us off, one by one while we sit back and suck on our hooves."
Spin nodded, "True. Alright, lesson one, respect your teacher. Lesson two..." With lightning movements he grabbed the axe from his wood pile, swinging it at the young pegasus. Klondike barely dodged it, grabbing the heavy sword he lifted it to defend himself. Spin knocked it out of his teeth with a swing of his ax. "...expect the unexpected."
Spin walked over to his sword, kicking it back to Klondike. "Again."
Klondike reached down to grab the sword, grasping it in a fetlock he saw Spin's shadow hovering over him. Raising the blade in a cross defensive he managed to block the old trapper's downward chop. But Spin was not deterred, pulling back with the ax and elbowing Klondike in the jaw. Recoiling from the surprise blow, Klondike swept with the sword towards Spin's gut. With a flick of the ax handle he knocked it aside, taking the sword out of Klondike's fetlocks.
Spin walked over to the once again disarmed pegasus, kicking the blade back to him. "Again."
Klondike rubbed his sore jaw, "Go easy on me, I've never even held a sword before!"
Spin dropped his axe, "Easy? You think I'll go easy on you because you're some kind of sissy amateur? Do you think that monster will go easy on you? You think it'll let you get in a few handicap hits because of how inexperienced you are?! Just because you are some pitiful excuse for a stallion doesn't mean it won't tear you limb from limb just for existing! I've seen good ponies with plenty of potential get trained 'the easy way', and they were always the first ones to die in the face of fear!" Spin grabbed his ax again, "AGAIN!" and lunged at Klondike.
Klondike managed a clumsy parry of the swinging axe, slicing forward on the rebound. Spin had to block this awkward attack, quickly countering. Slipping the head of the axe around the blade of the sword, Spin twisted and once again disarmed Klondike. "I was wondering when you would finally start doing some of the work. Lesson three, know your enemy."
"What exactly is our enemy?" Klondike said as he retrieved the sword from the dirt.
"We've all failed lesson three apparently, nopony knows what in Tartarus this thing is. And the Sun Eater isn't our only enemy in this, Sir Owayn could pose a threat to our safety if he kills the wrong monster. Tweed Suit, always the greedy bastard, is also somepony to watch out for. Even Venerax could pop out of the blue, royally pissed that he won't be getting his monthly goodies anymore."
"What about you, Spin? 'Know your enemy', and to me it seems that there is more to you than meets the eye." Klondike stood ready for another attack, wings flared and the sword ready.
"I'm not the enemy here kid. But you show at least a little competence, but they say curiosity killed the cat." The old, gray pegasus worked out a cramp in his shoulder, "Come on, I'm done whalin' on you for now. Let's set up the simulator."
The simulator turned out to be an old log with poles sticking out at various points, with a rope they strung it up from a sturdy tree branch, letting the log dangle.
"Alright kid, this log will train you to press the offensive while maintaining the ability to defend yourself. Take that blade of yours and hit one of those branches." Spin took a seat on a stump, reclining to rest his back.
Klondike hefted the sword, choosing a doomed pole he swung for it. Connecting solidly the entire log spun. "Okay, now wh-" a pole caught him squarely on the side of the head.
"Remember kid, offense AND defense." Spin pulled out a hidden flask, taking a swig.
Klondike shook the stars out of his eyes, lining himself up for another swing at the log. Hitting a high pole, he quickly put up his guard to block the low pole that came swinging for his leg. Successfully batting back that pole, he was shamed by another pole striking him in the ribs.
"Okay kid, as much as it entertains me to see you scramble yourself like an egg, it's time for another lesson. Lesson four, anticipate your enemy's moves."
The training lasted all day, the younger pegasus suffering more bruises than he cared to count by the time Old Spin let him stop. Relaxing in the yard of the cabin, the pair of pegasi tended to Klondike's injuries, both old and new. Spin dipped a wing feather into a bit of salve, smearing it on one of the more prominent bruises of Klondike's face.
"You did fairly good, for a gutless bookie."
Klondike winced at the sting of the salve and of Spin's words. "I'm not gutless. I was brave enough to attack that creature in the sky!"
Spin screwed the lid back on to the jar of salve, "There's a huge difference between bravery and stupidity. You nearly died out there because you let anger get the better of you."
"At least I'm the only one who has tried to do something about that thing!"
"Tried and nearly died! Damn it kid, you have to THINK if you want to help overcome this monster!" Spin poked Klondike's sore head with a hoof.
"And just who the hell do you think you are Spin?! You've beaten me, degraded me and stared at me behind my back for years! Maybe I wouldn't be such a failure if the only other pegasus wasn't a filthy drunk!"
Spin's eyes had a look that shoot daggers. "You think you're any better than me? I am ashamed to even call myself a part of the same tribe as you! You're not a pegasus, you're a damn earth pony that chopped off a pigeon's wings and sewed them on himself! No wait, I've seen unicorns with butterfly wings that are better pegasi AND better warriors than your sorry waste of a feathered hide! No wonder your parents ditched you out here in the wilderness!"
"AAAHHHH!" Klondike roared at the insults, all holding a grain of truth, all bitter and striking a nerve. Grabbing the sheathed sword on his back he attacked the old pegasus with a ferocity unlike he had ever seen. Spin jumped and dodged, barely able to grab his ax to defend himself from Klondike's onslaught. Steel rang on steel as ax head met sword. Soon Klondike was throwing hoofed punches as well as swinging his sword. Spin was backed against a wall, holding the ax handle up defensively. With a heavy chop, Klondike sheared the ax handle in two.
Whipping his weapon back up, he held it to Spin's throat.
Spin panted, then a smile breached his lips. "Well now, it looks like I was wrong. Now get your feathers out of my face."
Klondike looked down, the sword point wasn't at Spin's throat. Instead, the longest feather on his wing was aimed straight for the trapper's voicebox. Flexing the feathers, he laid his wings back down. Klondike began to unbuckle the sword belt from his torso.
"Don't bother kid, keep the sword. I don't need it so much anymore. I will, however, ask that you loan a couple of bits to replace my ax." With a hoof the old pegasus nudged the halves of the ax handle.
"No can do, I lost some of my bits to Tweed and the rest are still on that ship, which I'm guessing is long gone by now."
Old Spin shrugged, grabbing his cloak that he wore when he went to town. "Then I guess drinks are on me tonight. Come on."
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Yowza, that took a hell of a long time to write for something so simple. Good stuff though, Venerax finally gets some dialogue (even if it is in memory form). It's kind of weird, but I think it helps to imagine Old Spin's voice as being exactly like Sam Elliot's voice. You know, the old guy from the first Ghost Rider. No? The Stranger from Big Lebowski? Hulk? Still no? Fine, look it up! Lolz, having imaginary arguments with myself again, time for my "vitamins"! Happy Earth Day to all my readers, cherish and love our Mother and she will love us in return.