Purpose
They call me Flightless Fury.
It is something of a misnomer. I am capable of flight, but I do not need to fly. My wings have not seen use in over one hundred years. They have rested at my sides, patiently awaiting their turn to shred the air once more. Like sentinels, they know their purpose and silently await their destiny. It is that patience which has won me my title. For I am not Flightless Fury.
My flight is my fury.
And today, little pegasus, you will know fury.
It was she who disturbed my slumber. She doesn’t realize it. She thinks she has won. That prize in her hooves—the most valuable treasure of my hoard—she thinks it is hers. That is a testament to my patience. The instant I heard her, she was doomed.
I can see her now, soaring in celebratory laps outside my cave. She flips and spins through my ashen lair with speed, deftly weaving her colourful contrail between my columns of magma. A bold grin splits her face now, and she dashes through the air, mocking me with her dazzling display of flight.
But, little pegasus, you know nothing of flight.
She plays with the air like a whelp enjoying a friend’s company. Her wings, to her, are a luxury. I can see it in how she flaps them. To fly for the sake of flying—that is her passion. That is her drive. To make a show of herself and merge her identity with the air, so that others will not think of her name without envisioning skies, clouds, and wings.
No, little pegasus, you know nothing of flight. Your wings are weak.
Allow me to show you strength.
My roar rends the air and quakes the earth, and so she flees. At least you know a threat when you see one, little pegasus. And you are quick, to be sure. There is so much potential in that—so much potential wasted on theatrics… wasted on foolishness.
You have speed, little pegasus. But speed matters none in flight.
Looking up from the entrance to my cave, I can see her just vanishing beyond the edge of my flaming sinkhole. Rolling heat waves bombard me, beckoning me forward like sirens. The air is black and sulfuric, aching with the stench of millennia-old smoke. A dot of blue rests far above: the gateway to my sky. All of my will bleeds into my wings, forcing them away from my body.
You will know fury.
The first pulse of my wings in over a century feels as you might expect—they are tired and sore, but memories of greatness fuel them as they bond with the air. I have longed for this. To feel the atmosphere part before me like clouds before the almighty sun. I am a harbinger. I am a force. I am power.
Oh, sky, how I’ve missed you.
I can feel every wingbeat. The volcanic hurricanes left in my wake course through my veins—like bellows to a fire, they are. There is steel in my eyes as the thermal winds crack and shudder at my presence. Flowing magma envelops the tips of my wings as I ascend, and it boils at my vigor. This is the feeling I have so longed for. To smell the sky’s fear. To make the cosmos blink when they notice me—when they see Flightless Fury fly. That feeling, little pegasus, is my drive. My passion.
Purpose.
You know nothing of flight, little pegasus. It is a tool. A weapon. A blunt hammer steered by the honourable hand of purpose.
I recall a time when ponies brandished blades. It was not against any enemy—it was for show. Ceremonial halberds held by guards who had seen nothing of combat. Oh, how those crowds cheered for them. Cheered for ponies in soldier costumes—cheered for weapons which gleamed in the sun despite never having delivered bloodshed. They were theatrics… nothing more. Mockeries of war.
I see nothing has changed, little pegasus. Still, you wield your weapon as a toy. Still, you fail to appreciate what should not be yours. On that day so long ago, I showed your kind a true weapon. I wreaked death across the landscape with little more than wings, fire, and a purpose.
Do you know where you failed, little pegasus? In identifying yourself with the sky. You have made yourself one with the stratosphere. You take the air as your equal, if not your better. It is your stage—your pride. Without it, you are nothing. Your wings are as firmly attached to you by your identity as by your flesh and bone. That is where you fail, little pegasus.
Flight is purpose. To understand it is to wield it. Command the air—don’t let it seep into your soul. Make the sky quiver when you bless it with your presence. Give yourself a new identity when you spread your wings. Feel the force behind every flap. Sense your willpower carrying you through the air to your fate. Bleed determination, my little pony. You have the potential. You could have succeeded.
But it is too late now, little pegasus. You will learn to fear my shadow like an executioner’s axe. You know nothing of flight, but you will see its reality in my flame.
One more push of my wings launches me into the open air. I can feel the atmosphere growing heavy and dark—the calm before the storm. Blue winds stream across my scales and shatter under my wings. The world shrieks and squeals in my ears, for it knows what is to come.
I taste the renewed freshness of the world, and it tastes me in return. It remembers my lumbering wingbeats, my ancient scales—my thundering spirit. I cannot help but smile. It is my purpose that has branded my name in creatures’ minds. It is my shadow that has darkened the annals of history, blotting out light in favour of fire.
I am not fast. I am not agile. But I have purpose. I have determination. I am a mountain given flight.
And you, little pegasus… I have your smell…
Your village will know my shadow soon enough.
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Holy shit this is good. Why doesn't it have any comments?
3847635
It's just not everyone's cup of tea, I suppose. Regardless, thanks for reading!
3848308
Well, I certainly like it. You do an excellent job of creating a descriptive scene with a narrative soliloquy and minimal exposition.
So thanks for that.
Hi there. I hope you don't mind, but I liked this fic so much I have put together an audio version on YouTube.
4084105
I don't mind at all! In fact, I'm insanely flattered. The voice work and production quality are exceptional, and it brings the story to life in a way I never could. Thank you so much for this!
this is so amazng
You inspired this. Good job.
4405358
I was wondering where all the sudden attention for this story was coming from. Thanks for this! I can hardly believe I managed to inspire something so incredible.
4405867 That's how I found it! I'm happy I did.
Well well well, what do we have here?
This reads like a mountain given cause to rage.
Very nice, and I can see why it inspired a fantastic song.
Wow...
That was damn good. really felt the power, the implacable DOOM!
The shear utter belief, the surety of his own power. RD.. what the fuck did you do!?
Then again, after beating down Tirak, yeah the dragon is likely in for a surprise, but hat would be one hell of a fight to see.
Yeah, just, amazing job.
Now, THAT was something! I knew I had to check the fic that inspired such an amazing song, and wow! Was I impressed. Flightless Fury actions felt like they had weight behind them, an ancient purpose, his entire being filled with a rage soon to be unleashed, all that thanks to your fantastic job describing them.
Damn. Heard the song, heard the audio voice over and read the story. All three are bloody amazing. This is indeed how a dragon is powerful. Brilliant work mate.
I'm not so sure I like this dragon. I don't agree with the way he feels about flying. I think we all should do what we enjoy. And the way he thought the Pegasus' was wrong to fly for fun was conceited.
Great story.
I up voted so hard I broke my mouse. cdn.meme.am/instances/500x/19712952.jpg
As a dragon, I can hardly express how much this inspired me.
This is impressive. This is epic.
But, like Smaug before him, he is an arrogant monster and he is large and will fall hard. And he is wrong. Particularly in a world where friendship and harmony are actual building blocks of the world, where empathy and identification does actually matter so much. In such a world, the one who loves the air and treats it as a friend seems more likely to succeed than the one who thinks the air is something to dominate.
5684744 um i don't think this is your ordinary dragon of equestria and since it is not driven by evil and chaos the elements won't work on it and the princesses are nothing compared to it soooooo well RD you just royally screwed equestria
i believe that this dragon is ancient and powerful beyond comprehension so yeah WAY TO GO RD
4406622 don't forget that tirek is probably far weaker that flightless fury so the "RD what the fuck did you do" still stands
this needs a sequel PRETTY PRETTY PLEASE
5891599 You and me have two very different definitions of evil. The will to cause harm for reasons unrelated to survival when you are intelligent enough to refrain from doing so, along with psychotic pride and the idea that everything is beneath you, is pretty much my definition of evil.
Discord wasn't exactly corrupted by outside forces and he still got stopped. And frankly, I get more of the impression that this, while a powerful dragon, is also an immensely narcissistic one. So I am not exactly getting the impression that this is actually some all powerful dragon god. Just a powerful dragon that is in for a surprise.
But let's not have an argument in the comments, those are always embarrassing. Cheers.
5893022 i respect your opinion thank you for explaining your side as i explained mine
cheers
That was really cool. I definitely felt the dragon's character oozing off the page, which is impressive for such a short story.
I found this story while listening to FIM fan fiction on youtube. The VO was Unbelievable! Truly draconian. How does it feel to develop a cult following?
The surprise is for the ponies who is to say that the elements won't punish them for their greed and arrogance?
I first heard this through Scribbler's (and Finish Line's) absolutely amazing reading of this, but it very quickly got my attention and is one of the few Fimfiction stories I share around with my non-pony-fan friends. I do so love stories like this, though, that are set ostensibly in a universe but both a) require no prior knowledge of the universe to work because of how things are presented, and b) are well-written and provocative enough to get the attention of people who don't know what it's about. It helps when they're short one-shots rather than novel-length epics, of course. Still, this is just SO evocative and the language is so good that I have kept it in my head (and go and re-listen to it every now and then) for years.