"Good afternoon, Rarity!" Spike smiled, bowing low before the open door to Carousel Boutique. "Spike the Dragon Special Delivery at your service!"
"Hoo!" An owl levitated by his side, carrying a basket full of gemstones in his nimble claws. He glanced past his flapping wings at the little dragon standing beneath him. "Hoo! Hoo!"
"Huh? What's that, Owlowiscious?" Spike blinked up at the fowl.
A pair of avian eyes narrowed in exasperation.
"Oh! My bad!" Spike cleared his throat and smiled bashfully. "Spike the Dragon And Friends Special Delivery... erm... at your service. Eheh."
Owlowiscious sighed out the side of his beak. "Hoo..."
"Well, if you two aren't the most charming helpers in all of Ponyville!" Rarity said with a coy smile. "I've been needing these jewels for a special gown I've been designing all month! Now the look will finally be complete!" She levitated a half-dozen bits and deposited them generously in Spike's open claws. "Here you go. My appreciation for taking time out of your afternoon off to bring me these fragile gemstones."
"Hey! It's a real pleasure!" Spike said, his emerald eyes reflecting the shiny gold coins. "And with these bits, I'll finally be able to buy a new custom fishing rod from Zecora! Owlowiscious here has grown a new appreciation for local river trout." Spike winked. "Figured the little guy deserves to be spoiled every now and then."
"Hoo! Hoo!" Owlowiscious winked back, then gently released the basket of jewels into Rarity's gentle levitation spell.
"Well, every good deed deserves another." Rarity slowly, carefully carried the container across the interior of the Boutique. "I'm... actually rather relieved that you were keen on letting Twilight's adorable little pet assist you."
"Why wouldn't I be?" Spike shrugged as he and Owlowiscious strolled into the foyer. "Owlowiscious and I have come a long way from the time when I used to spread ketchup everywhere like blood and blame it on his carnivorous nature."
"Oh, but of course I know that, Spike." Rarity smiled. Licking her lips, she very... very gently placed the basket atop her design table. "It's just that these particular gems are quite fragile; even the slightest jolt or sneeze could shatter them into a million tiny pieces. That's why I requested that you enlist the help of your fine feathered friend. Carrying these jewels by wing is the absolute safest way it can be done."
"Yeah, so?" Spike shrugged. "I'm not offended. Besides..." He chuckled as he leaned against a random ponyquin in the corner. "...it's a good long while before I grow wings, and I'm sure you don't want your fragile gems rattling around in the grubby claws of a baby dragon. Heh."
"Not my choice of words, but you're on the right track... more or less." Rarity suddenly froze in place, squinting towards the far end of her dress shop. "Hmmm... funny..."
"What?" Spike blinked, craning his scaled neck to see. "Is something wrong with the gems? I swear, Owlowiscious experienced absolutely zero wind turbulence the whole way here!"
"Hoo!"
"No, it's not that." Rarity pivoted about, tapping her chin in thought. "I was just... dwelling on what you said."
"What, about Owlowiscious being into river trout? It's only nature, Rarity. Nothing to be freaked out about. Just ask Fluttershy!"
"No, not that. You..." Rarity's ears twitched as she broke into a tiny, tittering giggle. "I do hope you know, Spikey-Wikey, that we call you a 'baby dragon' as a term of endearment... among other things. Eheheh..."
"Yeah yeah." Spike shrugged. "So what? It's what I am, right?"
"Well, it begs the question... now that I think about it." Rarity levitated each fragile jewel, examining them one by one before floating them alongside the half-finished dress on her stage. "Isn't Twilight twenty-three years old?"
"Twenty-four!" Spike grinned wide. "Her birthday's on a Monday this year!" He leaned to his left, whispering aside to Owlowiscious. "I've already bought her a mug with a naughty word on it."
"Hoo?"
"Twilight! Who else?"
Rarity spoke: "Well, didn't Twilight get her cutie mark at age eight?"
"Er... yeah." Spike blinked. "What's that got to do with anything?"
"Well, darling, she got her cutie mark on the day you were hatched... and that was sixteen years ago!" Rarity turned to smile at him. "And sixteen years is hardly what I would call 'baby dragon' material."
Spike froze in place. His pupils shrinking. "Huh... I never... thought about it that much, really..."
"If anything, Spikey-Wikey, you're more akin to a 'teenage dragon.' But, I'm certainly no expert on that. Besides, it's not as though you've broken out with... brbrbrbrrrb..." She shuddered. "...draconian acne. Sweet Celestia, I grimace at the thought, you poor thing."
"Uhm..." Spike's claws fiddled with one another. "Should I have draconian acne?"
"Eh, it's nothing to dwell upon, I'm sure." Rarity waved a dainty hoof. "Dragons... ponies... we're as different as oil and water. But don't let me lecture you on the topic. I'm just... in a thoughtful mode. Such is always the case when I'm stuck in the middle of an inspirational creativity session. For instance, all last night, I couldn't stop thinking about the ultimate heat death of the universe and how our paltry mortality measures so little in the grand scheme of things." She stared off into space, smiling. "...Well!" She twirled around to face her dress again. "Thank Goddess for petticoats!"
"Errrr... right..." Spike twirled around, shuffling out of the Boutique in a sudden stupor. Owlowiscious followed him as he gulped a lump down his throat. "Isn't it nice to... have distractions?"
"Thanks once again, Spike. And good luck with the fishing rod!" Rarity fluffed her mane, admiring her reflection in the jewels. "Hmmm... trout... fish... scales... shiny studs. Oooooh! A 'mermaid gown!' That would be positively fab—no. No, it wouldn't catch on. Not unless there's a fashion show every Friday. As they say: 'Meh'."
"Hoo!"
"Twilight Sparkle, of course!" Spike frowned, squatting on a wooden bench in the middle of a rustic hut. "Who else would I ask about it?"
"Hoo!" Owlowiscious hooted, levitating beside a smattering of tribal masks planted to the wall.
"Because she's the closest thing Ponyville has to a dragon expert! Even if she's made it clear that... she knows very little." Spike gulped. "Even with all her books." He dragged a palm across his scaled face. "Doesn't help that she's off on a trip to Dream Valley, teaching Starlight Glimmer... how to para-sail for friendship... or something."
"Hoo! Hoo Hoo!"
"Well, it may not seem very important to you. Sixteen is—what—two centuries in owl years or something?" Spike pressed two hands to his chest. "But for all I know, it could just be a sneeze for me, and in the end I'm bound to live half-as-long as Princess Celestia or something!" He folded his arms with a huff. "And you of all birds should know that dragon sneezes are nothing to... erm... you-know-what at."
"Hoo..."
"At last, the rod is finished, my young friend Spike." Zecora trotted in from her workroom, balancing a sturdy new fishing pole across her flank. "I hope it is something you and your owl companion will like."
"Careful who you're calling 'young friend,' Zecora." Spike sighed as he gingerly took the rod from her and examined it with sullen eyes. "Some things are less accurate than you think, and I'd hate for a silly mistake to sully your intellectual reputation."
Zecora squinted. "Perhaps it is none of my business to inquire, but why are you stuck so deep in your own mire?"
"Hoo! Hoo!" Owlowiscious levitated directly in front of the zebra, gesturing wildly with one wing while his beak hooted away. "Hoo hoo hoo! Hoo!"
"Mmmmm... yes... I see..." Zecora nodded. She then turned to Spike with a calm smile. "Quite the thorough explanation given by your loyal fowl. Unfortunately, I lack a linguistic understanding of owl."
Owlowiscious face-feathered with a sigh.
"It's nothing for you to be concerned about, Zecora." Spike nevertheless sighed. "Honest."
"Regardless, perhaps it would be best to get the matter off your chest?"
"Mmmm... well..." Spike rested the fishing rod over his shoulder and hung his tiny dragon arms over it. "I was making a delivery of special jewels to Carousel Boutique earlier, and Rarity made the observation that it's been sixteen years since I was first hatched." He gulped, staring straight across the hut. "And yet, everypony has only ever called me a 'baby dragon.' Like... I've come to accept it myself. Why shouldn't I? I look like a baby... sound like a baby..."
"Hoo! Hoo!" Owlowiscious flew higher to the ceiling. "Hoo!"
Spike rolled his slitted eyes. "And I don't have my wings yet. Thanks for reminding me, ya mangy mouse-snatcher."
"Hooooo..."
"Hmmmmm..." Zecora tapped her chin in thought. "You are literate, resourceful, and the conqueror of many fears. Does one need to quantify all that with years?"
"Yes? No? I mean... I dunno..." Spike hopped down to his feet and absent-mindedly toyed around with the fishing rod, pretending as if it was a sword. "Zebras live... what... sixty to eighty years on average? Same with all ponies. But dragons? Who really knows how long dragons live, huh? Maybe Rarity's right. Maybe I really am a teenager. I think the only ones who can tell me for sure are other, legit teenage dragons. And..." He froze in place, hugging his fishing rod with a slight shiver. "...I-I really don't want to meet any of them again any time soon."
"It's quite possible that dragons take considerable more decades to age," Zecora said. "But don't let such an information gap be a cage! Embrace the untold years you have left to enjoy, whether your current status makes you an elder... hmmm-hmmm... or a little boy."
"But don't you think it's important to know, Zecora?" Spike looked up at her with glistening eyes. "Like... how will my years scale up with Twilight and the rest of my friends?" He touched two claws together while glancing forlornly up at Owlowiscious. "How will I know whether or not I'm really, truly mature for the challenges ahead? I... I just don't want to make things awkward for myself or for the ponies I know and love."
Zecora nodded. "Maturity is a very important life aspect. Your fixation on it is something that I can respect. If you're so determined to understand more, then perhaps a quest for knowledge is in store."
"Huh?" Spike blinked. "What... what do you mean? A quest?"
Zecora smiled, her eyes taking on a mystic glint as she leaned forward. "Due north of here, there is a mountain made of blue stone... with a summit so high that it chills hikers to the bone. There, one can find a wise mage at its peak. In exchange for a favor, this wise hermit will grant you the knowledge that you seek."
"Whoah... for real?" Spike blinked. "So... I can go to this wizard, do a task for him, and then he'll fill me in on dragon aging and all that snazzy stuff?"
"Granted, this knowledge is tangential rumor at best," Zecora said. "You may need Twilight's help to put it to the test—"
"No way!" Spike briskly handed Zecora the fishing pole again. "She's off doing important friendship lesson stuff with Starlight! If anyone's gonna make this happen, then it's up to a wise, growing, teenage dragon like yours truly!"
"Hoo! Hoo!"
Spike blushed, smiling up at his avian companion. "And his... ever loyal owl friend... of c-course."
"Well, if you're so determined..." Zecora started—
"I'll tell you how it goes, Zecora!" Spike waved as he waddled briskly out of the hut with Owlowiscious in tow. "Thanks! You're the best!"
The zebra blinked after him. "...let's hope it is not your ruin." She nevertheless smiled, then shelved the fishing rod on a shelf where she wouldn't forget it.
"For days... weeks he traversed the wild hilltops of Equestria." Spike panted, sweated, and climbed over a ridge of jagged stone. "Surrounded by lions, tigers, and hydras of all shapes and sizes. But did he give up?! No! With scary dragon breath at his beck and call and a loyal eye-stabbing owl at his side, he took every challenge that the interminably huge landscape threw at him and simply shrugged it off! Because his quest was too important to ignore, and his existential thirst for self-contentment far too intense to leave unquenched!"
At last, he reached the top of a hill and stood there, panting, surrounded on all sides by dense forest.
Owlowiscious hovered at his side. "Hoo! Hoo!"
"Yeah, well, I wanna hear you come up with a snazzier story to tell the others when we get back!" Spike frowned, pointing at a tall mountain peak of blue-tinged granite lingering in front of them. "Because the destination is right flippin' here!"
Owlowiscious blinked. "Hoo..."
"When did we leave Zecora's hut? Two hours ago?"
Owlowiscious nodded.
"Ehhhhh..." Spike sighed. "Why am I complaining?" With a shrug, he shuffled off for the tall peak looming in front of him. "Still... sometimes it feels like awesome, epic journeys were sooooooo pre-Tirek." His spines drooped. "...or maybe I'm just getting older."
"Hoo! Hoo!"
"Mmmfff... easy for you to say."
"Grnnngh! Guh!" At long last, Spike climbed onto the top of the granite summit. His claws scraped against azure stone, sending pebbles bounding downhill. Once he had an even footing, he stood up, wobbling slightly. He wiped the sweat off his scales and glanced around, blinking.
Fwoosh! Owlowiscious flew up and hovered behind him. "Hoo!"
"You said it," Spike nodded. "This place is deserted."
Sure enough, an old, bent, leaf-less tree was all that stood in the middle of the blue plateau. There was no sign of any living soul—pony or otherwise.
"Okay, so I see a super ancient tree..." Spike pointed. "...but no wise old magician sitting beneath it." He blinked, then sighed. "Perhaps Zecora was right. Maybe it was all just a stupid little rumor."
"Hoo! Hoo!"
"Mrmmff..." Spike rolled his eyes. "Well the least you can be is supportive." He turned tail and made to lurch down the mountainside. "Let's head on back. I'm in the mood for pizza rolls anyway—"
Then, from behind: "Crkkkk! Do you wish to kn-kn-know your future? Then you c-c-came to the right place! Crkkk!"
"What..." Spike slowly turned around, his eyeslits narrow and searching. "...the fudge?"
The petrified tree—previously inert and lifeless—was now wriggling like a vertical snake. Crooked limbs twisted and turned on wooden hinges, filling the chilly air with a constant creaking noise.
"Step r-r-right up and d-d-discover your fortune! For I am the wise Oak of Oakenstein! Crkkkk!"
Lips pursed, Spike walked slowly around the stump of the tree. Owlowiscious followed, and soon both were gazing up at the north end of the tree.
"Hello there, little b-b-boy!" A splintery mouth full of wooden teeth opened and closed like a hand puppet's.
"Gaaaaaah!" Spike and the owl jumped back, hugging each other.
"C-C-Care to learn the secrets of the universe?!"
"Uhm... s-sure!" Spike smiled nervously, shivering. "I mean, who d-doesn't? Every time I sit down to breakfast in the morning, I'm all like... 'wow, this strawberry strudel is nice, but if only I could grasp an ontological certainty to the all-encompassing reality of everything!'"
"Well you're in l-l-luck!" The tree mechanically gyrated its stiff limbs, rocking from side to side like a sentient flower inside an invisible soda can. "Ask any qu-qu-question of the wise Oak of Oakenstein, and my eternal knowledge... shall be... granted...to..." The tree suddenly lurched to its left side, its wooden eyes spreading apart as its mandibles hung open. "Youuuuuuuuuu," it gargled in a deep, guttural voice.
Spike blinked. He and Owlowiscious craned their necks to the side.
Along the west end of the tree's stump, there was a narrow vertical slot. Above it had been notched the words: "Please insert coins here!"
Spike glanced at his feathered friend. He shrugged, produced a bit, then slid it into the slot in question. Pl-Plink!
The tree shook, wobbled, and ultimately came back to life. "R-r-r-r-rrrrrrrrrighty then!" The trunk stood erect, branches waving uselessly. "What is your question, little g-g-girl?! Ask it and the wise Oak of Oakenstein shall deliver!"
"Yeah... uhm..." Spike pointed at himself. "I'm a dragon."
"Well, g-g-good evening to you, handsome squirrel!"
"No, dragon! I'm a—" Spike waved his hand. "Look, doesn't matter who or what I am. Do you know anything about dragons?"
"Well s-s-sure I do! The wise Oak of Oakenstein has been an ambassador to dr-dr-dragonkind for every nut harvest season since the Grand Chipmunk War!"
"Hoo! Hoo!"
"Shhh!" Spike hissed. "Lemme ask the question, 'kay?" He cleared his throat and leaned forward. "Oh wise Oak of Oakenstein... just how long do magical purple dragons have to live?" He gulped. "And at age fourteen... am I a baby or a teenager?"
"Have you c-c-considered slicing yourself in half and c-c-counting your rings?"
Spike blinked. "Wat."
"Ha. Ha. Ha." The tree wobbled and shook, its wooden jaws swinging as well as its branches. "Just an old tree j-j-joke!" It lurched forward with a groan. "The wise Oak of Oakenstein will answer the squirrel's question for a f-f-favor!"
"A favor! Right!" Spike nodded. "Zecora told me about this! Well, name it! Cuz I really want to know about dragon maturity!"
"You m-m-must go fetch a Seed of Magical Rejuvenation from the Hall of the Termite King!"
"... ... ..." Spike blinked. "...huh."
"Do not worry! The path through the Termite Mounds has b-b-been clear of Chipmunk Incursion for centuries now!"
"Just... uh... how far away is this Seed of Magical Rejuvenation anyway?"
"Five miles to the west!"
"Hey..." Spike shrugged. "That's not so bad!" He looked aside. "Right, Owlowiscious—"
"Or five thousand miles to the east."
Spike's spines twitched.
The tree wobbled backwards with an apologetic groan. "Roots. These roots keep the wise Oak of Oakenstein from fact checking—"
"Uh huh. Yeah, sure. So if I go and grab this Seed and bring it back, you'll answer my question?"
"Absopositivolutely!"
"Right!" Spike rubbed his palms together and swiveled around. "Then what are we waiting for, Owlowiscious? Let's go do this!"
The owl glared at him. "Hooooo..."
"Pffft... come on... it's just a fetch quest." Spike shrugged with a smile. "How hard could it be?"
CRACKKKK!
Lightning struck the mast of Spike's makeshift raft.
"Gaaaugh!" Spike howled into the blistering squall. Mountainous waves of ocean water surged all around him, spraying his scaley little body with brine and seafoam. "Grnnngh! Don't let go of the rudder, Owlowiscious!"
"Hooo!" The bird perched on the instrument in question, garbed in a wet raincoat. "Hoo hooo!"
"We've been over this time and time again!" Spike gnashed his teeth. His eyes glinted in the next flicker of lightning. "We must sail into the eye of the storm." His claws tightened to his grip of a rope as he struggled to raise the sail again. "Otherwise, the sea serpents will devour us... just like they did last time."
"HRESSSHA!" A bipedal lizard with a dagger leapt over a river of lava and flew at Spike.
"Grnnngh!" Spike blocked with his shield and knocked the beast back across the cavern. "Raaaaugh!" He slashed a two-edged sword.
"HISSSS!" The reptile leapt backwards. Within seconds, an owl in tiny plated armor attacked its skull, blinding the monster. The beast flailed and hissed, teetering precariously on the edge of a tall cliff overlooking a lake of liquid magma. "HRESSSSSH!"
"That's right!" Spike panted. "You distract him while I go for the chest with the compass in it—" Spike ran across an earthen bridge, only to have a mess of gigantic arachnids fall from the ceiling and form a chitinous phalanx in front of him. "Awwwww shoot, he summoned scorpions again!"
"Hoo! Hoo!"
"Of course I'll hit 'em in the stinger!" Schiiiing! Spike readied his sword, snarling. "You just keep Miss Beauty Queen over there busy! Psssst! Hey! Flash Funk wannabes! Come and get some!"
Drooling, the scorpions converged on the little dragon. Sparks flew wildly as stinger met blade.
"Raaaaaaaaugh!" Cl-Clank!
"Okay..." Spike took a deep breath, perching on the back of a tall suit of armor. "B4 to C6."
The gigantic statue sliddddddd magically across an enormous marble slab comprised of black-and-white tiles.
"Hoo!" Owlowiscious flapped its wings wildly from the sidelines. "Hoo! Hoo!"
"What?!?" Spike flashed him a sweaty look. "Why didn't you tell me that before I made the move?!"
Just as he spoke, the twelve-foot-tall queen piece from the opposing pivoted to face him, then slid towards the dragon with menacing grace.
"Awwwwwwwwww fudge." Spike's spines drooped, along with the rest of his body. "Not again."
"Hoo..." Owlowiscious covered his eyes with two feathers.
SCHIIIIING! The queen swung a massive scepter at the other statue. SMASSSH!
"Aaaaaaaaugh!" Spike fell hard to the floor amidst a sea of armor pieces.
"Hah hah hah!" A balding stallion sat across a tiny table erected in the middle of a verdant green field. "You fell for it! My ultimate trap!"
Spike finished drinking from one of two goblets. He placed the container down and squinted through a black mask. "And what do you mean by that, good sir?"
"I switched the poison while you weren't losing, you moron! Your intellect can't stand against mine! And now everypony in Equestria will know that you lost the ultimate game of wits against me! Hah hah hah hah hah—" The stallion froze in mid grin... then teetered over to the ground. THUD!
Spike sat up and calmly took the hoof of a dainty princess dressed in flowy white silk. "Alright. Let's go and finish that negotiation with the griffon ambassador over contested farmland along the fringes of Termite King territory."
"Hoo!" Owlowiscious flew overhead, blinking. "Hoo! Hoo?"
"What?" Spike shrugged. "They were both poisoned. I developed an antidote back in the harbor of Constantinopony, remember?"
"Hoo..."
"Uhm..." The princess trembled. "Can we go now, Dragon Pirate Spike?"
Spike nodded, hurrying along. "As you wish."
Panicked ponies galloped left and right across a rain-swept ship's deck. Bloodthirtsy harpies shrieked, divebombing them constantly with their razor sharp talons.
"Aaaaaaaaaah!"
"Gaaaaaaaah!"
"The Princesses of Canterlot have abandoned ussssss!"
"I don't want to die!"
"Aaaaaaaah!"
"Relax! Everypony relax!" Spike huffed and puffed, swinging two blades around at the end of rusted chains attached to his forearms. "I've got this! Really, I do—"
"SHREEEEEEEEE!" A half-dozen harpies dove at him all at once.
"Gah! You chicks really don't let up, do you?" Growling, Spike spun with a flash of red-and-white body paint and knocked the harpies out of the air. "Didn't I tell you to back up?!"
Just then, something bubbled from deep beneath the waters. A mess of massive hydra heads lifted, shrieking and spilling water everywhere.
"Huh..." Spike slumped against an anchor wheel, gazing up at the reptilian necks towering above him and the ship. "Guess they followed us all the way from Spartrot."
"Hoo! Hoo!" Owlowiscious hooted into the torrential rain.
"Can't! Spike gnashed his teeth. "I haven't unlocked that ability yet!"
"GRAAAAAAAAAAWL!" The hydra heads shrieked.
Spike twirled his chain-blades. "Guess I gotta do this the vanilla way." He ran straight forward. "Get ready with the quick-time prompts, Owlowiscious!"
"Hoo!" The bird saluted.
And Spike threw himself off the ship's edge, diving against a backdrop of forked lighting as he sailed towards the hydras with a warcry. "RAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!"
"Alas, I have followed your travels very... very closely, purple hero," hissed the ravenous Termite King through his jagged mandibles. His multiple beady eyes twitched between sharp black follicles as he equipped a sword and shield in his hooked insectoid limbs. "I have studied your every tactic... your every talent—both learned and ingrained. You have traversed many mountains and oceans, defeated many monsters and despots to get to this point. But your brave journey ends here, draconian fool." His booming voice echoed against the cold earthen walls of the ginormous mound interior surrounding him. "For I am the Termite King! I am Death Incarnate! The End of Forests and the Reaper of Sawdust! The only way you're getting your grubby little claws on the Seed of Magical Rejuvenation is as a corpse! Mark my words, hero, I shall consume your flesh and spit out your bones to make a trophy for all my workers and soldiers to gaze upon and marvel at the foolishness of those who seek to oppose my might and challenge my throne! So try your best, hero! But your next move shall be your last! That is my firm promise! A promise made in blood! YOUR blood! Mwa ha ha ha ha haaa!!!"
"... ... ..." Spike stood, clad from head to tail in glowing, epic, enchanted titanium plates. Adjusting his grip of a series of levitating shards extended from a translucent gemstone hilt, he turned to look at Owlowiscious. The bird looked back from his hovering rocket perch powered by faerie fire. "... ... ..." At long last, Spike turned once again. He gazed down at the tiny little speck of a Termite King situated on the cold floor beneath him. Stifling a yawn, Spike leaned a hand forward... and flicked the Termite King across the room with a single claw.
"Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" The subterranean dictator's screaming voice grew faint as his body flew endlessly down a long, black corridor. "I... ammmmmm... defeateddddddddddd..." Silence. More silence. Then—at last—a thud. Followed by a distant explosion. POWWW!
"Zoop." Spike spun around. "Now. Where's the Seed?"
"Hoo! Hoo!" Owlowiscious pointed across the chamber to a giant glowing acorn situated atop a cylindrical dais.
"Sweet!" Spike sheathed his weapon into a vibrant purple void satchel and happily waddled towards his target. "Time to grab this and bring it back to the wise Oak of Oakenstein... er..." He smiled aside, blushing. "After the dinner date we've promised to Princess Butter Clop, of course."
"Hooooo-hoooo." Owlowiscious winked coyly.
"Mmmmfff... guh... grkk..."
Huffing and puffing, Spike climbed to the top of the blue stone mountain surrounded by forest.
"Nnskkt... whew..." He stood in his magical gear, wiping sweat from his brow. "We're back... oh wise Oak of Oakenstein..."
"Hoo! Hoo!" Owlowiscious flew up to Spike's side.
"Let's see now..." Spike rummaged through his belongings. "...I've brought you the Mythical Dredge Eye of the Abysmal Ether Kraken... the Sacred Cogwheel of Eversteam... a lavender scented hoofkerchief—don't ask—this... weird glowy triangle thingy... Oh! And who can forget..."
Plunk! He dropped the glowing acorn to the surface of the stone summit.
"...the Seed of Magical Rejuvenation, just like you asked for. Now..." He slumped in place, exhaling. "How about lecturing me on dragon aging, huh?" Silence. "... ... ...Mr Oakenstein?"
More silence.
The dragon and owl craned their necks.
A limp tree lay on its side. Exposed gears and wires spilled out of its hollow interior.
"Uhhhh..." Spike scratched his chin.
"Hoo?" Owlowiscious' feathered brow furrowed. He urged the dragon whelp forward. "Hoo! Hoo Hoo!"
Fidgeting, Spike reluctantly approached the collapsed tree. He tilted his head sideways and stared at a series of words etched into the base of the trunk: "... ... ...'Made in Mexicolt?!'" He grimaced, hard. "Ohhhhhhhh..." His eyes rolled. "...you've gotta be kidding me!"
"Crkkkkk!" The stiff limbs of the horizontal tree suddenly quivered to life. "'Please insert a c-c-coin and I will t-t-tell your fortune, little boy or girl! Crkkk!"
Frowning, Spike shoved a golden bit into his trunk and lifted the thing's jaws by its knotted hinges. "Hey! Jerkwood! I went and defeated the Termite King for your stupid little acorn! Now will you tell me how old dragons live or not?!"
"Crkkkkk! Have you considered slicing yourself in half and c-c-counting the rings?"
"Graaaaaaaaaaugh!" Spike lifted the tree over his head and threw it down the mountainside.
The tree laughed mechanically on its way down. "Ha. Ha. Ha—" THUD! Then all was silent.
Spike panted and panted.
With a sympathetic sigh, Owlowiscious levitated down and patted the whelp's shoulder with its wing. "Hoo Hoo..."
"Yeah, yeah, I know..." With a shrug, the dragon turned around and shuffled south towards Ponyville. "...takin' orders from a piece of flippin' firewood. What was I thinking? Guess I am a baby dragon after all..."
"Hoo..."
"Me! That's who! Mrmmmff... I need something to make me feel better."
Spike's claws clutched the last pizza roll from a paper plate and tossed it down his gullet. After munching on the saucy treat, he gulped and swallowed it down with some soda. "So... mrmmfff..." He looked across the palace's glossy throne room. "...in the end, he couldn't even tell me anything about how a dragon ages, matures, or whatever. So... I got a tad bit angry and threw the wise Oak of Oakenstein down the mountainside, where he presumably crumbled into tiny, splintery pieces. But... that's okay, right? Mechanical wooden automatons don't have souls... at least not in any religion I know. But you've been studying the topic for much longer, Twilight. What do you think?"
Silence.
Spike slurped and slurped from his soda. At long last, he glanced up again. "Mrmmmff... Twilight?"
The alicorn gawked at him. She turned to look at Owlowiscious on his perch. The bird merely nodded.
"Spike..." Gulping, Twilight turned to the dragon once again. "Do you mean to tell me that—all this time that I was in Dream Valley teaching a friendship lesson to Starlight Glimmer—you were sailing a stormy ocean, ridding dungeons of reptilian mercenaries, saving kingdoms from tyrannical rulers, rescuing a princess from the clutches of a bald psychopath, crossing extra-dimensional realms, and removing the despotic Termite King from power?"
"Yeah, so?" Spike brushed his claws off. "Say, do you mind if I nuke more rolls? I know it's late and all, but I'm famished."
"Spike! Don't you get it?!" Twilight grinned. "You're so worried and bent out of shape over how old you are... but in the meantime you've actually been accomplishing a lot of very challenging, very amazing things!"
"Well, the Halls of the Termite King were really... really far away." Spike snorted. "I would have gotten there a lot easier if I had... y'know... grown some wings."
"That's not the point, Spike!" Twilight trotted over, smiling proudly. "It took a great deal of experience, wisdom, and—most of all—maturity to manage the hurdles you've faced!" She rested a hoof on his shoulder. "What does it matter how old you are? You're already making a difference in the world, and that's something ponies will forever remember you for! Isn't that timeless enough?"
"Huh..." Spike blinked. "I never thought of it that way."
"Of course not, you silly dragon!" Twilight giggled. "I've taught you by example how to be a nervous basket-case. And I'm awfully sorry for that."
"Heh... apology accepted and forgiven." Spike winked up at the perch. "Ain't that right, Owlowiscious?"
"Hoo! Hoo!"
"Just one thing I want to know," Twilight said, blinking. "What... made you think you had to go on such a crazy, ridiculous bunch of quests in the first place?"
There was a knock on the door. Starlight Glimmer stuck her head into the throneroom. "Princess Twilight? You have a visitor."
"Send 'em in."
Zecora trotted into the room. "Good tidings and gifts I bring." The zebra smiled. "I certainly hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"Not at all, Zecora!" Twilight smiled. "Spike was just telling me about this amazing journey he went on! You should hear all about it too!"
"Ah! Spike! What a coincidental pleasure!" Zecora reached back into her saddlebag. "I do believe he misplaced something of no small measure."
"Hey! My fishing rod!" Spike waddled over and grasped the stick in question. "Sweet! You even kept it in one piece!"
"Heheheh... oh, but of course." Zecora smiled. "I am not a dishonest horse."
"Now I can relax and catch some trout to feed my buddy, Owlowiscious."
"Such a reward is completely befitting." She leaned in with a wink. "For a soul that's so naturally maturing."
Spike stared at her.
She stood still, smiling back.
"Heh... yeah..." Spike nodded, hugging the fishing rod to his chest. "True that."
"Well, Spike, I'm glad that you're no longer so obsessed with your age," Twilight said. "As far as I'm concerned, you're virtually timeless."
"I'm inclined to agree." Zecora chuckled. "No need for the dragon to give himself the third-degree."
"Say, that reminds me." Spike placed the fishing rod down and kicked at the palace floor with his feet. "If I'm so... y'know... timeless... then does that mean that the age of consent is up to interpretation?"
Both Spike and Twilight did a double-take.
"Huh?! What?!" Twilight made a face. "Why would you even ask that question?"
"Oh, y'know..." Spike smiled rosily as he produced a lavender-scented hoofkerchief and nuzzled the initials P.B.C to his scaley cheek. "...no reason."
"Hoo Hoooooooo..." Owlowiscious drew into his feathers.
"... ... ..." Twilight snarled, swiveling about. "Zecoraaaaaaaaa..."
All she could see was a flash of stripes as the shaman leapt out the Palace window.