Thorn strode through the streets of Fillydelphia, his lanky, teenaged-form legs carrying him a good distance with each stride. Around him, his signature gray robes obscured most of his features, making it easier for the spells he was supporting to convince others that there was nothing interesting about him, not even his glowing eyes with freaky, undulating pupils.
He turned the corner indicated in the directions he had received from a gray earth pony, and then stopped and stared. The boundary between the two districts was so distinct that Thorn could have sworn that it was two different cities mashed up together. Where the rectangular buildings of Fillydelphia's pony district ended, the irregular, carved-from-stone buildings of Dragon Town began.
Thorn stepped forwards and continued walking. He had no real destination in mind beyond this, his only goal being to find something useful. The dracolich wondered if he could find a dojo or a bookstore – someplace where he could get ideas to experiment with, if not actual instruction on his abilities.
Even if he didn't find anything useful, he was still enjoying himself. Compared to the garish, overly decorated streets of upper Canterlot, the simplicity and uniformity of the design of Dragon Town emphasized the few decorations there were.
And the dragons! Everywhere he looked, there were more of them in all sorts of colors and designs – similar to ponies, he noted. He also noted that, despite all the variations he saw, none looked older than young adults – less than a hundred years of age – leading him to believe that the dragons left if they grew too big. Their souls too, he noted, were different from ponies and from his own hybrid soul. While pony souls looked like small flames, dragon souls looked like orbs with two triangular protrusions, reminiscent of wings. His mouth watered slightly, his hunger for souls silencing any cannibalism-based objections.
His rational mind, however, silenced his ethereal hunger and decided to replace the sensation with physical hunger. As luck would have it, he could smell something delicious coming from nearby.
Following his nose, Thorn shortly found himself standing at an open-air stall. Glancing at the menu on display, he spotted several gem-infused noodle bowls for sale. Shrugging, he brushed past the overhead curtain and sat down at the last available seat.
No sooner had he sat down than the pink dame* next to him, likely in her teens, stopped eating, turned, and offered her claw in greeting. "Hey, my name's Mina. What's yours?"
Not used to being so casually approached for conversation, let alone at all, it took Thorn a minute to work out the appropriate response. He stuck out his claw and shook hers. "Thornecrovitar, Thorn for short."
"Ooh, that's a fierce-sounding name. Spear of death and life, I think it means," Mina replied before picking up a wad of noodles with her chopsticks and greedily slurping them up.
"Spear of undeath, actually," Thorn corrected. "Mom's a fan of creepy stuff like that."
Just then, the waitress appeared across the counter. "And what can I get you?"
Thorn blinked. "Never been here before. Water and whatever you do best, please," he requested.
"One miso-ruby soup, coming up," the waitress said before disappearing in the back.
"Creepy, huh?" Mina said to herself. "And what kind of things are you into, Thorn?"
To the dame, the drake replied, "Ah, you know, guy stuff. Hoofball, playing the drums, good food, murder, comic books-"
"What was that?"
"Comic books?"
She shook her head. "No, before that."
"Good food?"
"Nevermind. And for your information, comic books can be for girls, too, you know," the pink dame quipped.
"Never said it wasn't," Thorn replied. At that moment, the waitress brought out his bowl and chopsticks, for which Thorn quickly thanked her. He took one bite, his eyes went wide, and then he quickly began greedily slurping up the noodles.
"Well, as it happens, I work at a comic book store a few blocks down the road; this is where I come on my lunch break," Mina commented.
The purple dragon swallowed hastily. "Guh, mmm... Really? That's amazing!" he said, his already luminescent eyes metaphorically lighting up with joy. "I'll have to stop by before Mom and I leave town tomorrow."
"Where you two headed, if you don't mind me asking?" Mina inquired.
"North. We're kind of on the run," Thorn said. "We're just going where the wind blows."
It was Mina's turn to go wide-eyed. "That sounds like one of my adventure comics! Who are you running from? Why are you running? How are you going to stop them from catching you?"
"I'll let most of that stay a secret, no offense," Thorn replied. "As for how we're going to stay safe, I'll show you. First, describe my appearance."
"Ok, so you're wearing a disguise?"
"Nope. Just tell me what you see."
"Alright," the dame agreed. "You're a purple drake - late teens, early twenties. Green back spines, ear fins, and eyes. You've got a rather ordinary face, normal proportions, no distinguishing scars, no significant features. Honestly, If I hadn't just spent a minute describing your face, I'd say it was rather forgettable."
Thorn smiled. "That means it's working. Did you notice how much time you spent describing 'normal' and 'ordinary' features, and not identifying ones?"
She finished the last bite of her food. "Huh," Mina said. "You're right. Odd."
"And, you completely missed my most distinguishing feature while you were looking at me," Thorn added.
"Wait, what?"
"There is something odd about my eyes. Look closely at the pupil and concentrate on what you see; don't assume," Thorn answered. Opening his eyes wide, he looked right into her teal eyes.
"Hmmm... I don't see... Wait." Suddenly, she jumped back, slamming into the dragon behind her and knocking them both to the ground. "HOLY SHIT! What in Tartarus is that?"
Hopping off the stool, Thorn offered her and the drake she was climbing off of a claw. The fallen drake shot Mina a glare, but didn't otherwise complain. Once everydragon was seated again, Thorn answered, "Those are my eyes."
"What? No way! Hey," she turned and waved down the waitress. "Look at this guy's eyes. See anything odd?"
She looked. "No, they're perfectly ordinary eyes. Just a normal shade of green."
As the waitress turned away, Mina sputtered, "B-but How?"
"You only see what I want you to see, and I want to be seen as normal," Thorn answered somewhat cryptically. Then, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, he slurped down the rest of his delicious soup. Reaching into his robes, he pulled out a claw full of bits, more than enough to pay for both their meals, and set them on the counter. "So, can I see that comic shop of yours?"
"Are you like a superhero or something?" Mina asked from where she sat at on the store checkout counter. "I mean, that thing with your eyes wasn't normal, either them or how you hid them. So is that your power? Illusions?"
"No, that's mom's," Thorn asked as he flipped through the comics. The two of them were in Mina’s store, deserted of all but them since the majority of the customers only came in the evenings and on the weekends.
"Really? How does that work? Does she just breath her flame on your face and BAM, illusions?"
"No, no magic fire breath**; Mom's a unicorn."
Mina sheepishly chuckled. "Oops. Didn't realize you were pony-raised." He waived his claw dismissively. "So? Powers?"
"You seem awfully convinced that I have abilities that I shouldn't,” Thorn remarked with a slight chuckle. He set down one comic book and picked up another.
“Of course. Mysterious past, strange appearance, cloaked, on the run, raised by somepony other than the dragon that laid you,” Mina said, counting on her fingers as she did. “You match a lot of the same tropes my favorite comic book characters have.”
“Hmm... Oh, wow, that’s stupid,” Thorn said.
Annoyed, Mina shouted, “HEY!”
“Not you,” Thorn replied. He held out the comic book and pointed out the illustration. “These zombies. These slow, shuffling, moaning things are hardly scary.”
Mina looked at the page. Then, taking the book, she flipped it over and looked at the cover. “The Trotting Dead? They’re not scary? If that’s not scary, then what would you call scary?”
“The ones that nobody - not even the zombie - knows is dead yet,” Thorn answered. At Mina’s confused look, he elaborated, “The dark sorceress sends her curse towards a group of adventurers; one of them is struck, but is apparently unharmed. The group drives the sorceress back and makes her retreat. They celebrate, but then one of their own suddenly is killed - a neck ripped open by teeth. The murderer is seemingly horrified about what her mouth did without her control, but then her mouth speaks on its own. ‘Two down, the rest to go. And don’t worry,’ the sorceress’s warped voice says, ‘I already consumed this vessel's soul. She’s been dead for hours, and now I’m going to kill you all.’ And then the dead body on the ground says, ‘A little help here?’”
Mina shuddered. “Wow, you’re right. A zombie that looks and act like your friend before it eats you - creepy!” Then she chuckled, “I’m glad that’s just a story.”
Thorn only smiled.
“My mom loves that kind of stuff,” he said. “Hey, have you ever heard of a dragon that can age backwards?” the dracolich asked.
She shook her head. “No, that’s silly. Why?”
“Because you were wrong when you guessed my age,” Thorn said.
“What, really?” She jumped up from her seat on the counter and walked over to Thorn. “Prove it.”
Thorn smiled. “Gladly.” He turned around and, mid-stride, aged himself up, practically doubling his height. Plucking a comic off the top shelf, he began to shrink back down, passing the height/age where he had met Mina, and shrank down to the size of a ten-going-on-eleven year old drake. “This is as young as I can get. Never bothered to learn how old I could get; I stopped when I was big enough to carry my mom on my back in flight.”
The pink dragoness stared at him, slack-jawed. “How? How did you do that?”
“I’ll teach you if you’re willing to make a trade,” he replied. “I taught my twin brother how to do it; I’m sure I can teach you.”
“Oh my gosh. Whatever you want, just take it, on me.” She gestured to the store in general. “I have to know.”
“Can you teach me what fire magics you know?”
Sheepishly, she admitted, “I don’t know that much - my family’s never had much variety in our magic, and nothing really awesome like that.”
“And I never had a family to teach me dragon stuff. Spike and I had to figure it all out ourselves,” Thorn replied.
“Deal.” She stuck out her hand, which Thorn - now back at late teenager size - grasped and shook. “So, do you want to breath exploding gunpowder clouds or shoot fireworks?”
“Fireworks, definitely,” Thorn replied. “My own arsenal is dangerous enough. I want something fun.”
“Sure. Now,” - she practically jumped in his face - “tell me!”
“Greed.”
“Huh?”
“You have to imagine your size and age as intrinsically valuable. You have to hoard your own size, and yet maintain enough control to know when to stop.” He started growing slowly. “Picture the size you want to be. Make that the most valuable size, and take it. But, you have to force yourself to believe that being bigger devalues your hoard, or you’ll keep growing.” His growth stopped, and then reversed. When it stopped again, he was smaller than before, causing his robe to appear comically oversized. “To shrink, consider your size less than worthless. Convince yourself that small is valuable, and take it.”
When he didn’t continue, she said, “That’s it?”
“It’s simple enough to say, yes, but it’s really tricky to actually reverse the growth once it starts,” explained Thorn. “Give it two months of constant practice, and you should be able to at least move in the right direction at will. A year, and it will seem effortless.”
“Huh,” she said as she jumped up onto the stone counter. “I was always taught that a dragon who grew too greedy would never return, and you have to stay under a certain size to live in Dragon Town. I guess that’s why nodragon ever tried.”
“So, can I learn your fireworks trick?”
She nodded, but then said, “My boss would be mad if we did that in here. Flammable comics, and all. Come back here at six, when I get off, and we can go somewhere better, OK?”
Sparkle shuffled across the ash-covered field, following the lead of one of her specters, which slid across the ground. Her three functional legs were enough to get around, yes, but she found herself terribly unsteady without the support of her bones. The bones themselves were at the machinist's shop; she’d requested that they be integrated into the design of her prosthesis.
*FWEEEE-POP!*
The bright, colorful, screeching firework sailed over her head and exploded loudly. “Oh, hey, Mom!” The voice of her son called out. “Sorry about that. I got carried away.”
Sparkle looked and saw that Thorn and a dame that she didn’t recognize were sitting side-by-side, covered in ash. “What are you doing?” the unicorn inquired.
The pink dragoness looked her way, and Sparkle saw the dragoness’s eyes go wide at the sight of her missing limb. Recomposing herself, the dame said, “I was teaching him how to shoot fireworks from his mouth.”
Sparkle’s ears perked up. “I didn’t know dragons could do that.”
“Neither did I,” Thorn said. “Hey, Mom, can I borrow one of your specters? I want to pass some memories to Mina.”
“Memories?” Mina muttered.
Sparkle nodded and then tossed her head, shooting a tiny black orb to Thorn. The moment he touched it. The extra shadow on the ground - the specter - warped from being a pony’s shadow to a dragons. Thorn made a come-hither gesture, causing the specter to leap into his body.
Mina gasped, and then gasped louder when the inky dragon oozed out of Thorn’s body and sank into hers. Suddenly, images and sensations flashed through her mind. She knew she had never done the things she saw, but she could feel them as if they had happened to her some time ago and she was simply remembering. There was one commonality to all the memories - she could feel her flesh moving and rippling over her bones, changing her size, and she could remember her - no, the master’s - state of mind at the time.
The process didn’t obstruct her eyes, or any of her senses, for that matter, and she could clearly see Thorn’s index claw wiggling systematically, and feel her own index claw moving at the same time, digging into the ashen dirt below. The moment seemed to stretch on, but then Thorn drew the ink dragon out from under her skin, making her completely herself again.
“Do we have to leave now?” Thorn asked his mother.
“If we want a hotel room for the night, yes.”
“What in Tartarus was that!?” Mina shrieked, reflexively growing in size as she did.
Smiling, Thorn said, “I just saved you months of work.”
“What are you... Oh, wow!” She looked down at herself, admiring the sexy dragoness she had grow up to become. “I look good.”
Thorn suddenly found himself glomped by a very huggy dragoness who was bigger than him. “Thank you! Thank you! AAAHHH!!! This is so cool!”
“Gah! Go on, Mom, I’ll - ACK! - catch up in a minute,” Thorn squeaked from the tight embrace.
“You sure?”
“I’m - ugh - fine.”
“If you say so,” Sparkle said as she faded into the shadows and sped away.
“Woah, your mom is cool,” Mina said.
Thorn muttered something, but the pink dragoness couldn’t understand it. “What?”
“AIR!” She let him go. He inhaled once... and then was perfectly fine, as if he hadn’t just been suffocating. “So glad I don’t actually need air,” he muttered. Then, at conversation volume, he said, “Well, it’s been fun. See you around, I guess.”
“Thorn, wait,” Mina said, grabbing his arm. “When that thing was in me, I thought-”
He pulled away. “Don’t worry about it.” Turning away, he started walking in the direction Sparkle had vanished in. However, he paused after only a few steps. Skeletal wings oozing black mist erupted from his back, fitting through slits in his robe. “Don’t chase the dead.”
His wings flapped once, spreading the darkness across his body, dissolving him into the shadows.
Mina, the pink dame, stood alone in the middle of a burnt field. By her feet, there was a message to her, written by her own claw. She looked down and read.
Dead dragons do tell tales.
-Thornecrovitar