Take Flight
♠♣♥♦King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
═══════════════════════════════════
Chapter 15
Take Flight
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow
♠♣♥♦
Chip stood back to regard his handiwork. The workshop had been cleared, leaving a large open space in the middle. The floor was now thick with painted runes and sigils, painstakingly laid down in white paint by use of the brush held in his muzzle. His hooves echoed oddly in the now-empty space as he inspected the conjuring circle one final time. The centerpiece was two giant circles, one inside the other, with a stream of angular diagrams between them. Around and inside them were more sigils and runes.
"Dad," Chip swallowed slowly, voice soft with repressed emotion. "I... I think that's it."
Sharptooth snorted, opening one eye from where he'd been dozing against the wall. "Hmm? Let me see..." The dragon stood on all fours for a closer look. He hummed and hawed as he walked around, stepping carefully over the lines so as not to smudge them. "Nice work, very neat. Alabaster's Rune of Silent Motion, eh? Nice touch. Dawn Carver's Sigil of Animate Energies, good... and Comet Tail's Substitutiary Locomotion! Fantastic! My boy, this is perfect."
The elder dragon beamed, and Chip couldn't help but stand tall and proud, despite how weary he was. "Thanks, Dad. I couldn't have done it without you."
"Nonsense, lad. This is all you. These, however..." Sharptooth bent to pick up what at first glance looked like an old toolbox. Out of it, the dragon produced two pristine, well-machined elliptical constructions of brass, crystal and sky-metal. "These are from me, to you."
"Wow..." Chip reached out a hoof to lightly caress the nearest one. It was lifeless, little but a strangely shaped oval cylinder of glass with an odd piece of metal inside, set in brass filigree. The detail was painstaking, though, and the thought of how much work had gone into them was staggering. "Dad, these are... these are amazing! Are you sure they'll work?"
"The scrying you have done," Sharptooth said in a level tone, indicating the lines on the smooth rock surface made in the faintly-glowing pigment, "is the missing piece of Bevelmiter's work. The spell was devised a couple of centuries after his death. It amplifies and tunes magical artifacts through applied interaction of sympathetic vibrations."
"You mean like those from the tube we made last year." Chip nodded absentmindedly. He.stared long and hard at the lines. Runes were tricky, they were magic made manifest, and looking at them caused his eyes to itch. Trying to look at them directly was difficult, his vision wanted to slide away, to stare at anything else.
"Indeed. With it, you can breathe life into these two new constructs." Sharptooth paused, suddenly apprehensive. "Are you ready to try?"
Chip turned his head suddenly, eyes wide. "What? Right now?"
"You thought I had you lay these down for fun?" Sharptooth smiled, all teeth. "The flight-saddle itself is not quite ready yet – the armature is incomplete, the webbing is entirely absent and the control crystals need tuning, but it is otherwise assembled. Wait here a moment." Sharptooth trundled out of the cave, returning a few minutes later with a leather, brass and cloth object, somewhat reminiscent of a set of saddlebags crossed with an orrery that had mated with a standard pack saddle. It wasn't clear which had won, but the fight had been savage. The device held a latent aura of barely-suppressed power, almost as if it were alive. Chip was still standing there with his muzzle open as the dragon smoothly slid the twin Bevelmiter tubes into position.
"Come, lad. This will need to be adjusted properly later, but for now, it is time for the first fitting." Sharptooth busied himself attaching all the straps and cinches to Chip as the apprehensive youngster maneuvered himself into position. The saddle rode high on his withers, and was pulled tight around the barrel of his chest so it didn't slip. Cautiously, the dragon ran a claw around the inside of the girth-strap, before pulling on the billets and cinching it tighter. "Don't breathe in, lad, this needs to be tight or you will fall out of it!"
Chip grinned apologetically and stopped holding his breath. "Sorry, Dad."
With a final few tugs and an appraising glance around, Sharptooth stood back. "That's it. We're good. How does it feel?"
The strangely-designed pack-saddle was a foreign weight on his back, heavier and more substantial than a normal saddle. Long, thin metallic arms draped to the floor on each side listlessly, whilst the two Bevelmiter tubes stood almost upright on either side like comically overgrown shoulder-blades. Central to it all, a single piece of crystal shone dimly in the light, rising up out of a complicated set of runed gears and cogs. Attached to the 'arms' were metal wires, like thin ribs. They would, when complete, hold the wing-fabric in place. Right now, they looked like absurdly long skeletal fingers from some strangely deformed claw.
"Feels okay. Looks weird." Chip twisted his body to and fro to get a better look. The 'arms' – clearly they were the wings – dragged low in the dust forlornly. "It wants to go, doesn't it?" Chip asked softly.
Sharptooth nodded. "You feel it too? Bevelmiter was the same. He would always talk about the heart of whatever he was making. You put a little piece of yourself into whatever you touch. These wings will be no exception."
"You sure they'll work? I mean... the last time I tried this, there was a whole lot more to them." Chip twitched one shoulder blade after another, attempting to get the wings to flap. They dragged.
"Your last valiant effort was a triumph, my boy, but they were entirely mechanical. These are arcane." The dragon busied himself once more attaching the post-pegasus's neck-satchel to Chip, which he then carefully lowered Chip's original Bevelmiter tube into. "Remember what I told you?"
"Face North, place my hooves on the runes of centering, purpose, grounding and motion. Then open the way." Chip blew a lock of his mane out of his eyes and took a nonchalant step forwards, but a claw grabbed him roughly by the ear.
"Chip, this is serious. Everything here has a purpose. You must understand that. Step wrong, and forces you are not prepared to counter will teach you the meaning of folly."
Chip hissed in pain, lashing his tail, and he tore his head away. "Dad! I thought..." Chip grit his teeth. "I thought you were cool with this! Don't you want me to do this?"
"Do not take it lightly." The dragon's expression was unreadable, but his body language was clear. Don't go, it's not safe.
"Dad, I... I want this, more than anything." Chip took another step forwards, hoof-step echoing clearly through the chamber. "I'm not a hatchling," he said, to the far wall of the room, "I'm a dragon. Learning to fly is important for a dragon, you keep telling me that." He kept moving forwards, afraid that if he stopped, he'd not take another step. And he didn't want his father to see his legs shaking.
"We don't need to do this right now though," whispered Sharptooth.
"You let me go charging out the front door of your house, and I fell off a thousand-foot cliff. You've taught me to fly by dropping me from the sky." Chip was still staring resolutely at the wall as he took careful steps forwards, minding not to scuff or mark the runes. As he passed over them, they started glowing brightly. "You make me spend hours drawing and re-drawing these things... and now you change your mind?"
"That's different," replied Sharptooth. "Then, I could catch you. I've not changed my mind, I just..."
Chip gulped, and nodded. "I know." He stepped forwards, and planted his hooves. In the pouch, his first Bevelmiter tube started to glow brightly. It hummed as it increased in speed, emitting a sweetly musical, audible tone which rose in pitch as more power started to pour out of it.
"Good luck, son," said Sharptooth, circling around the pony-shaped dragon before him.
The room had been relatively well-lit before, but now the miniature cavern became harshly illuminated by a bright, unearthly blue light. Lightning crackled and fizzed, jumping from sigil to sigil, as barely-constrained forces were set in motion. The air tasted of copper and tin, it was thick and oily, and cloying. Chip closed his eyes, focusing on the mantra his father had given him. The runes would do all the work, but only if he could withstand the energies necessary. His greatest enemy was fear, his greatest mistake would be hubris. He would succumb to neither.
His heart sped up as the engine by his side thrummed with power, central core spinning so fast and burning so brightly it could not be seen, even if it could have been looked at with the naked eye. Across the device on his back, sister runes to the ones on the floor lit up. Chip grit his teeth as the magic swept over him in an inexorable tide, pulling at his mane and digging at his flesh. Blue flames burst from the arcane writing; he felt them crawling up his legs, burning with a cold heat that stung like bitter winter's coldest chill. Just when he thought he could take no more, the twin arcane engines on his back twitched. The musical hum of his original device was joined by two more. Like a beating heart, they pulsated with energy, crackling into life. Shadows danced on the walls in a mad riot of shapes that only became more convoluted as the wings on Chip's flying harness came alive.
They twitched. It felt like an itch he couldn't scratch, but it grew up and out of his body to encompass the entirety of the saddle and the long wings. He nickered in true pain now, an ache like the worst of muscle spasms, yet he dared not lift a hoof. He did, however, twitch his shoulder blades. He rotated his bones in their sockets in an attempt to deal with the agonizing annoyance, but it didn't help. All around him, the fire was growing brighter, becoming almost blinding even through his clamped-shut eyelids. The itching turned to burning, to a pure ache, and finally to cramp. Bellowing a roar of annoyance he stretched. All at once, the light flickered and died. Breathing heavily, Chip opened his eyes. The floor smoldered, but even as he watched, the last of the black, sooty residue that was left was dissipating. The runes under his hooves had vanished too. Experimentally, cautiously, he lifted each hoof in turn – the two at the front, the two at the back, and the two in the— Chip stopped. He turned his head to one side. He had six limbs. He twitched the new pair of legs again, and felt them unfold and twist in completely, horrifyingly different ways to his legs. This was, primarily, because they weren't legs. They were wings. He stretched them again, and they unfolded. Concentrating, he flipped the armature down until they fit snug against his flanks.
"Dad," Chip said, laughing with joy, "Dad! They work!"
Sharptooth, in an entirely un-draconic show of affection, slithered across the floor and pulled the youngster into a tightly coiled embrace.
♠♣♥♦
The moon perched itself behind thick clouds. They obscured the sky, plunging Stalliongrad into pitch blackness lit only by flickering oil streetlamps and curtained windows. From above the darkened streets, slitted pupils surveyed the tall, stone, mountain-like mass that was Pig Iron's Place. The eyes they belonged to narrowed, and their owner snorted in derision. He turned away in disgust. "Mistress says we may not trespass, brother, but it taunts me so." Breath crystallised in the air, scintillating motes that danced in the faint breeze and shone in the faint torchlight. It was cold, very cold, despite the clouds. Snow lay all around, blanketing everything. It was only due to the infernal white shroud that normal ponies could see anything at all. for the two thestrals, however, it may as well have been daylight.
"Calm thyself, Myristica," said the other. "The scryers will have the truth of things soon enough."
"Come on Cerasus! How can you lay there and... and... and stuff your face?!" Myristica kicked the bowl of food his herd-mate was eating out of away. It clattered into the darkness, landing in the street below. Slitted eyes flashed in anger.
"I had not finished, Nutmeg. Fetch me another."
"Fetch it yourself, Cherry."
"Fetch me," Cerasus got to his hooves, bat-like wings flaring, "another."
"Make me, you—"
The air behind the pair grew colder and more still. It was the silence that drew them to turn, and moments later both were digging their muzzles into the ground to avoid looking up at her.
"Prithee tell me, mine faithful servants," Luna began, as she alighted on the rooftop with the faintest of clacks from her hooves as they sank into the snow to impact with the roof tiles, "be it thine true nature to squabble like infants? If the weight of thy years be too heavy, I may lighten your burdens. Faith my heart would be all a'flutter at more carefree foals playing amongst the gardens of my lunar orphanage, but then needs must I find myself two new faithful aides to fulfill my most important of tasks." Luna paused for effect, before fixing each with an intense glare. "Well?"
"Sorry your highness," mumbled Myristica.
"Sorry, we were... we're just... sorry."
"Report then, my fine lunar stallions." Luna's eyes twinkled, and she smiled. Thestrals were easy to tease; their loyalty was unimpeachable, to be reprimanded by their Mistress was punishment enough. None but the most dedicated of guard ponies would submit to becoming one of the bat-winged, sharp-toothed creatures of the night. She could see into their hearts, and these two had more than enough love and caring for each other let alone the rest of their herd. They were precocious, but slacking was not in their vocabulary. Sometimes, she wondered if that were literally true.
"We failed to obtain your staff from the train, Mistress." Myristica bobbed his head, hunching his shoulders up in shame.
"But we tracked it to Stalliongrad. It lies within yonder fortress, your highness," added Cerasus, pointing with a hoof, not looking up.
Luna's nostrils flared as she regarded the bar. "Dragons. I know their kind well. A thousand years ago, another life, and I had whole flights at my command. With naught but a whisper, I could yet have them descend upon this play-fort and level it, but the ruin it would bring my little ponies is too great for such a bauble."
"M-maybe w-we, I mean, you, should a-ask Celestia?" Cerasus asked, his voice drawing to a squeak as Luna levelled her gaze at him.
"The day I have to inform my sister anything is the day she is not fit to rule her half of Equestria. Come, my stallions, this is but a distraction for the foalish. Much as a conjurer gesticulates with a hoof to draw the gaze, this tower of stone is set down to flummox and obstruct. I will have my prize, but it shall not come from here."
"Your will."
"Our command."
"We shall return home, my faithful adjutants. Winter is upon the world; and all things sleep in winter, even those that would make merry mischief."
A lonely street sweeper spied the wooden bowl, lying innocently in the street. Miraculously it had landed bottom-side up and was still half-full. With good fortune smiling on him, the earth pony ate heartily, picked up the bowl in his teeth and vanished into the night. Far above, three shadows melted away into thin air, leaving nothing but hoofprints. As snow began to fall, even these too were swallowed up.
♠♣♥♦
Chip yawned mightily. He wasn't sure what had woken him up, but his body was telling him there was no getting back to sleep now. He lay ensconced in his nest, wishing once again that he'd been allowed to hibernate through the dark desert winter. Sticking his nose out from under the covers, he tasted the air. Sniffing twice in quick succession, he wrinkled his brow in a frown before poking his head out fully. He sniffed again. Perking an ear up, he could hear a faint drip, drip, drip.
It was water, liquid water, as opposed to solid ice. Liquid water meant it was above freezing. Being above freezing meant...
"Spring is here?" Chip mumbled blearily. Easing himself out from under the covers, wincing at the room still being cold, he trotted to the window. Pulling back the long, wide curtains with his teeth, he let in blaring sunlight. Hissing and blinking tears from his eyes, Chip's vision slowly adjusted until he could see out. Pegasi were indeed flitting to and fro, clearing up the gloomy skies to let the sunshine in. Far, far below in Tacksworn, Chip could just about make out that the diamond dogs were out in force, along with ponies, shovelling snow. The griffons were helping, but mostly seemed to be engaged in harrying each other and the pegasi about.
"Huh, would you look at that. Spring really is here, and they're doing it the old fashioned way. Wonder why nopony's come to—"
Chip paused as the doorbell rang. He facehoofed. "Typical . Nice one, Chip. You had to tempt fate," he muttered to himself.
The doorbell rang again. This meant Sharptooth was already up, and was either out and about town, or deep inside the mountain and entirely unable to hear. That meant it was probably up to Chip to be hospitable. And on the weekend, too! He sighed and trotted to the bedroom door. "Coming! Coming!" he called, poking his head through the doorway. As he sped down the stairs, he saw Hairpin getting up from her seat at the table."Good morning, Master. I was just having some breakfast, want some?"
Chip felt ruffled. "You don't have to answer the door, you know, not with..." Chip waved a hoof vaguely at her now slightly rotund belly.
"Does my master wish me chained to the bed, too?" Hairpin asked, fluttering her eyelashes. She grinned as Chip blushed, before pulling the door open. A bunch of newspapers and a flyer for The Neighvada Royal Airshow fluttered around the room as a gust of wind blew in.
"Ah, let me get that for you, dearie," said a prim-sounding unicorn mare. She was a silvery-white, with a red apothecary's bowl on her blank and a black mane and tail. She stomped lightly on the errant mail and picked them up in her muzzle.
Hairpin brightened. "Nurse Tyndaller! My master and I were just discussing you." The pegasus grinned over at Chip, who stood aside for the nurse to enter.
Tyndaller trotted in and deposited the newspaper, letters and flyer on the table, laughing merrily. "Whilst your unique familial situation took some getting used to, the old 'pregnant mares should be confined to bed' mindset is instantly recognizable. I can assure you, youngster, Hairpin here is in fine fettle." The white unicorn trit-trotted in briskly, shaking wet snow off her hooves as she did so.
"That's not what I meant!" complained Chip, blushing hotly. "I just... don't want her to... hurt herself or anything."
"I'm not made of snowflakes, Master, we've had this conversation." Hairpin nuzzled Chip on the forehead. "Now, please let Tinny here do her thing, okay?"
Chip splayed his ears out, and blushed more as she kissed him on the poll. He blushed even harder when Carmine trudged in.
"Hey, butthead. Gonna swoop down and help with Winter Wrap-Up? Beth's down at the library with Thorn and the rest of the guys. It's kind've expected you'll help with the cleanup."
Chip looked from Carmine to Hairpin. The latter shooed him out with a hoof. Resignedly, he turned to the griffon. "Looks like I'm not wanted around here, and I do wanna do my bit for Tacksworn. Not sure how I'm gonna get down though."
"Dasher and Warp won't mind running you into town," Tyndaller called, looking up from where Hairpin was sprawled on cushions. Her horn was glowing softly, and she lifted a stethoscope from her ears with her magic. "Just ask them nicely and don't be too long, or find your own way back, either's fine."
"That won't be necessary, Madame," called a deep voice. Chip spun in a whirl of hooves as he heard the distinctive sound of claws on rock. From the corridor leading down into the workshop, came Sharptooth, holding a bundle of leather, metal, crystals and glass. "I do believe this is ready for a full test-drive."
Carmine's crest lifted on her head as she stared at the contraption in the dragon's claws. "Is that... it?"
"My flight harness?" Chip asked. "Yeah, it... it is. Dad's been working on it since Hearth's Warming."
"With your help, lad," protested Sharptooth. "I merely added a dash of my own flair and expertise. Today, it is ready." The dragon grinned ruefully, massaging his long, sinuous neck with a foreclaw. "Truth be told, I've been up all night putting the finishing touches to it. It still needs tweaking, but more than that, it needs a test-run."
Chip winced. "You were up all night?"
Sharptooth waved a claw as he placed the saddle-like pack on Chip's withers. "Not a problem. I enjoyed the challenge. Besides, I get tomorrow to sleep in. If this works, you're the one fetching tomorrow's groceries."
"Aww! No fair!" Chip whined.
"You mean you don't want a morning free of your old father, with money in your bit-pouch and wings on your back? Oh, well then, I'm sure—"
"Wait, wait, you mean I get to—"
"Goof off in town." Carmine grinned smugly.
"As long as you're back for dinner," Sharptooth said, nodding. "A late dinner," he added, seeing Chip's distressed look. The dragon then rolled his eyes at the continued mournful expression from his son. "If necessary, I can whip up something for Hairpin and myself and you can drag yourself in for supper, but we really will be needing supplies. Today though, first day of spring, would be a perfect time for your first official flight." The dragon had been cinching straps tight and adjusting fittings as he spoke. He then stood back and admired his handiwork. "How does it feel?"
Chip rolled his shoulders experimentally. "You were right about needing to save weight. The new fabric is much lighter. Pity you couldn't do that arcane webbing."
"I could, but I'm not sure of your ability to sustain it under duress."
Chip snorted as he nodded to Carmine, and trotted out the front door into blindingly-bright sunlight and chill winds. "It's not like I'm going to be involved in aerial dogfighting."
"I rather meant storms, though tussles with your pack can't be ruled out. You really need to do something about them, the spring weather will make them... friskier than normal. They need a hobby. They need approval from their owner."
"I've already ordered them to act for the good of Tacksworn, and to leave me out of their lives. They won't let me—"
"Calm yourself lad. We will find a way. For now, though, I think it is time." The dragon nodded politely to the two pegasi who had transported Nurse Tyndaller up to the cave. They nickered in trepidation and eyed each other, but nodded back. "I shall escort my son to Tacksworn, and then return. You are free to make yourselves refreshments, but do check with Hairpin first. Us dragons have somewhat unique diets."
"Th-thank you, sir," replied one, "it is a bit cold out here. A cup of coffee wouldn't go amiss."
"I believe I have coffee," mused Sharptooth, "though I mostly drink tea."
"Tea's good!" squeaked the other. "Come on, Dasher." Warp lived up to his name, as he shot passed the dragon and inside the dwelling.
Dasher sighed and shook his head. "Sorry about him sir, he's new."
Sharptooth grinned, showing teeth. "Quite alright."
Dasher gulped, and trotted past inside.
Chip tried hard to stifle a giggle. "You like doing that, don't you?"
"Who, me?" Sharptooth asked innocently, making a few minor adjustments.
"I've seen how dragons fight," said Carmine, stretching one wing after another. "I'm not surprised he's nervous. I wouldn't want an angry dragon on my tail."
"Yes, well. Let's hope we don't have any reasons for anger in the near future. Fire it up, Chip."
Carmine studied the strange device carefully. "How does it work?"
Chip grinned as the two Bevelmiter tube cores started to spin with increased vigor. "Like this."
Slowly, the great webbed wings unfolded, pointing skywards before sweeping back and down experimentally. The gust of wind they generated sent sprays of water hurtling against the stone walls of the mountain behind them.
"Chip, that is pretty cool, dragon-boy."
Chip flexed his new appendages as well as his muscles, showing off. He heard the gears and cogs whirr as they unfolded. He could really feel them, though they were ghostly and indistinct. The tubes were like muscles, or lungs, pumping away. The energy from them flowed through him, eager to be released. He spread his wings wide and flapped them, peering over the edge. "So, er, how's this work?"
Sharptooth sidled up behind him. "Well, we could spend a few minutes discussing theory, but—"
Chip whipped his head around as claws fastened on the straps, but it was too late. "Don't you—" he began, but got cut off as the elder dragon bodily lifted him into the air and threw him like a model glider into the aether. "—Daaarrrreeeee!"
Carmine watched as the screaming, arcano-winged creature receded into the distance. "Just like my first time. Dad always was a stickler for the traditional methods."
"Did he have to go catch you, too?" Sharptooth asked, bunching his muscles as his eyes followed the disappearing speck.
"No," replied Carmine, as the dragon heaved himself into the air. "But then," she said to herself, a sly smile playing across her beak, "I was kind of born with wings."
Chip was screaming. He'd been doing that for a while and it hadn't helped. In an effort to stop the scenery careening past him, he kicked up his forehooves and spread his wings. Almost immediately, they caught the air and lifted him up. The world fell away beneath him as he climbed, shedding speed like a diamond dog sheds fur on a couch. At the top of the curve, he stopped, hanging in space for a brief few moments.
Beneath him, Equestria lay spread out like a patchwork quilt, sun scintillating off piles of snow as colourful creatures frolicked and toiled amongst it all. It seemed so far away, another world, another realm. The words of Calligraphy Quill came back to him, in her discussion of the three ancient realms. There were the great waters, the land, and the sky. For all his life, even during flight practice with Sharptooth, he had been a denizen of the ground. Now, though... Chip spread his wings wider, revelling in the feel of the thermals all around him. Now he was one with the air.
He tilted one wing, dipped the other, circled, and plummeted downwards. Jubilantly he let loose a roar of triumph. It belted across the heavens, echoed by an answering bellow from another dragon, and a raucous screech from a griffon. Unfolding his forelegs forwards, kicking his hind legs backwards, he galloped through the air, wings beating in long, slow strokes against the frigid air. Twisting them, angling to catch an updraft, he soared between the two other flyers and banked in a lazy circle, spinning past them.
"I see the hatchling's found his wings then!" cried Carmine, beating her own wings and hovering, turning on the spot to follow Chip. For an answer, Chip tried to screech like a griffon. It didn't work, and he ended up coughing. Wobbling, his clean arc faltered and he fell a good few tens of feet, struggling to regain altitude.
"Careful, my boy. Let's get you down whilst you can still move. You'll be using muscles you didn't know you had, and cramp could be inconvenient. Not fatal, I'm sure I could catch you, but it would spoil your grand entrance some."
"Aww dad!" whined Chip, somersaulting in mid-air, "I feel fine!"
"That's what they all say. Down. Now."
Grumbling, Chip swept back his wings and dove groundwards.
Greater Tacksworn rolled beneath his hooves, the beats of his wings irregular now as sweat beaded his brow. The moisture was wicked from his muzzle by the wind, tears flowing in a veritable stream from his eyes. He mentally made a note to get goggles. On his back, he could feel his new arcane muscles faltering. Ten feet before his intended target, and twenty feet too high, his wings cramped, locked up of their own accord and then folded. Fortunately, he stalled. Unfortunately, it hadn't been quite at ground level. He fell, flipped, spun, and slammed into a windswept snowbank on his side.
Through the stars and wheezing, and the pain of what he hoped wasn't a cracked rib, he heard wheezing, choked laughter. Dimly, he realized it was his own, sputtering in gasps as he fought against being winded. Two large, indistinct shapes came in for their own hard landings before rushing up to him and crouching over to investigate.
"Do you think he broke something?" asked Carmine, her voice echoing, strangely fuzzy, "like his head?"
"Dragons are hardy. Even pony-shaped ones. Up you get, Chip lad, I've a need to return home to see to your pet and our lunch."
Claws grabbed him, not unkindly, and dragged him to his hooves, dusting him off. Chip wobbled slightly, blinking until the double-vision faded.
"In one piece?" asked Sharptooth.
"I think so." Chip sat down hard on his rump, sucking in long breaths of air. His ribs and muzzle hurt and he'd bit his tongue, but nothing seemed to be broken. Tentatively flexing his wings, they were undamaged too. It wasn't that he could feel them like he could feel his legs and hooves, but they did have a ghostly presence. He furled them closed again. "One question, though."
"Shoot."
Chip turned to look at the mountain in the distance, impossibly high up in the azure expanse of the sky. "How do I take off again?"
♠♣♥♦
The library stood tall and proud in the center of Tacksworn. Chip swished his tail, bolas clattering loudly against each other, as he entered. He kicked the snow from his hooves and shook his mane out. A stove had been brought in, placed carefully upon a stone plinth, and hooked up to a chimney which sprouted from the back and extended up through the roof. In front of it lay Beth, with Beryl's son Thorn idly running his great paws through her head-feathers. She blushed as Carmine walked in, but the latter stalked past Chip and flicked his muzzle with her tail playfully, telling him to keep it closed.
"Don't you dare pretend you don't have a thing for Thorn, B."
"A thing?" Thorn asked, making a face. "I am not a thing."
"What you are is her Rabbit Surprise," Carmine snarked.
Thorn flexed his considerable biceps, "So you just love me for my body?"
"Damn straight," replied Beth.
"Boys," sighed Bella, "can't live with 'em. Dunno what I'd look at without them."
"What is Ruff then? Chopped liver?" protested the younger diamond dog. He was sitting on Penny's haunches as she lay near the stove on the opposite site of the plinth. Ruff's nose only just cleared the top of a heavy-looking book.
"Ruff is the baby brother I never had. Or wanted."
Ruff pouted, but brightened as he was lifted by the scruff of his neck off Penny's back and placed carefully on the floor. She snuffled his head-fur and gave him a push towards Chip.
"Go show Chip what you've found."
"That the diamond dog history book? You can read more of iit?" Chip pointed with a hoof.
"Ruff has been comparing comics, staff and book. No laughing! Comics are..." Ruff twiddled a claw in his ear thoughtfully before pulling it out and flicking a glob of yellowy wax into the fire. "Comics do have ancient Trollish. Comics have translations too!"
"Wait, what?" Chip said, tilting his head in surprise. "They really are accurate? It's not a one-issue thing?"
Ruff yanked on Chip's flight-saddle by a wing, dragging him down to a large, comfortable cushion the troll had been spread-eagled upon. Returning to his comfortable reading position, Ruff opened the book out, and pointed to a comic laying open next to it. "See?"
"It's true," Beth said, turning her head around and fixating Chip with a direct gaze. It lingered for a moment, then it swept to the pack-saddle on his back. Her eyes widened in shock. Beth squawked softly as she took a closer look. "Wait, are those runes?"
"What, the wings? Uh huh." Chip craned his head to look at his pack-saddle, then back to Beth. Her beak had fallen open in shock.
"Who taught you about griffon runes?"
Chip fluttered his arcano-mechanical wings and blinked. "They're griffon?"
"Some of them are. My dad, my hatch-dad, he used to study them. He wasn't a tribe elder, but he was a shaman. I know a thing or two about griffon runes from him, and those are griffon." Beth ran a claw carefully through the fine engraving, a confused and slightly concerned look on her beak.
Chip opened and closed his mouth, thinking of the pony-book and the trouble it promised. "It's a long story, apparently."
Beth stood back and appreciated the construction, shaking her head, her crest bobbing up and down as she examined it. "I've not seen runes like these for... well, ever. There's not much call for griffon shamans when unicorns have it covered with a wave of their horn. Runes are for more permanent work."
"Like these."
"You and I are going to have a talk about those griffon runes, Chip, but you should listen to what Ruff has to say first." Reluctantly, Beth took her claws off the device, and turned to Ruff, beaked muzzle expressionless.
Chip nodded, mouth dry. "Anything I can tell you, B, I will." Chip then turned back to Ruff. "Go on, then, what's it about?"
"This is history... of old world, before High King – book calls him a Khan like Neighvada trolls do – and how they, we... came here. See?" Ruff rattled off a sequence of growls, barks and yaps, his paw tracing the strangely angular lettering. "It says," he said, clearing his throat as he began to recite, "that it started when sky burned."
♠♣♥♦
Third moon after summer solstice.
skies burn cold fire. Blind Farak, demon god of lost souls, has stolen Ik'Mara's eye. Day-star Mara weeps blood. Night-moon Ik burns brightly. Pack weeps in fear. Akash the Dreamer demands we leave. I, Khan Tikaari of Shattered Hills pack, have agreed. We move according to Dream. Akash speaks of Old Caves. Ground moves, mountain wakes.
I fear it too late.
There was much whimpering, wailing and gnashing of teeth as the tide of downtrodden trolls made their slow, despondent way across the plains. Great ruts had already been worn into the grasslands by the passage of a multitude of paws. The dirt trail led from the burning mountain peak off into the Wild Woods and beyond, and everybody on it was going in one direction. Away.
The pack was afraid of the mountain now, and they had good reason to be. They'd lived in it's shadow for centuries without a second thought, the fertile gameland producing what fruits and vegetables were needed as well as supporting a good population of wild animals. What stood for peace amongst the boisterous diamond dog clans of the Lower Caldera had been good. But then it had all changed.
The trouble had started innocently enough a few weeks ago, with some small earthquakes and scattered wildfires... but then the sky had burned with a cold fire and the sun had grown wan and capricious. Wild animals had come charging down from their haunts and territories, terrified enough to overcome their natural fear of the diamond dogs. They'd passed through the heart of the pack's land, bringing devastation in their wake. Herds of Grizfarns and Fangtails had destroyed the pack's village and farmland in minutes.
The Shattered Hills pack – named after the peculiarly-shaped broken-peaked mountain range they lived next to – wasn't protected like the Stonewielders in their great castles. They only had a single Elder Stonetalker, no Elder Healer, and only one old Elder Dreamer. Their Khan, Tikaari, was old and grizzled. He was also wise, but such calamitous events had never been heard of in either living memory, and was only vaguely mentioned in the songs handed down from ages past. As a result, indecision had nearly spelled their doom.
Finally, when the land itself heaved and groaned as if some colossal demon stirred beneath, the Elders had agreed to leave. The pack nearly hadn't made it at all; the mountain had split and burst less than a day later, molten rock pelting the countryside and razing what buildings remained standing. The flames from the burning forests of the lowlands as well as the ruins of their homes could be seen for miles.
Akash the Dreamer grit his teeth in impotent rage. The fire-drazzigs that dwelled deep underground, furious at some unknown trespass, raged still. Maybe they were on their own exodus from fear of the blind god Farak. He didn't know. All he knew was that great suffering and pain had befallen his people, and he was powerless to stop it.
Great black belching plumes of smoke had descended down the side of the mountain earlier in the day, enveloping the few stragglers and looters that were still in the village proper. Still more had been picked off when the ground had split open, shattered beyond the ability of the apprentice Stonetalkers to hold it in check. He'd heard tales that the air near the village, even clear of the ash-cloud, hurt to breathe. Many had died, choking.When it became clear all was lost, the orderly retreat had turned to a full-fledged rout.
As the pack fled, they whispered amongst themselves; It had to be punishment from the Great Alpha of Alpha's, Polaris, for crimes they did not understand. Many were wailing apologies at the sky. Akash could only hope they would work.
The pack's drazzigs had fled with the wild animal stampede, the mindless six-legged beasts having wit enough to smell the end of the world and brute strength enough to escape it, long before the Pack Elders had gotten off their well-padded backsides. They'd broken from their corral as one mass, hissing and yawp-ing to each other in panic. The majority had fled before anyone could do anything.
Akash sighed, leaning on his staff. Their strength would have been invaluable to the pack's flight. As he soaked in the sight of the straggling refugees, running from a doomed homeland to an uncertain future, he couldn't help but weep. The premonitions had been right. His one consolation was that he knew how it would end. As a Dreamer, that was his one consolation, and his secret pain.
He straightened. Indecision had cost enough. Now all would pay for it. "Run!" he bellowed suddenly, throwing his great forepaws skywards, waving his Dreamer's Staff. "Run! The sky-gods and the earth-gods rage and fight! They are both consumed in fire, and you will be too!" His voice echoed across the warring plains, the rumbling and roaring geography seeking to drown him out. Akash leaned on his staff again, taking grim hold of it in both paws. Beneath his light brown fur, his knuckles were white.
There was always the chance his dream of almost total destruction and loss could be wrong. Then again, it could always be worse.
He watched as the Alphas hounded all they could, picking up the young that mattered and spurring on the rest. The females were quick on their paws, that was one mercy. The other mercy was the quick death offered by whatever angry gods tormented them.
A thousand heads passed him, two hundred more approached.
Not enough, he thought to himself. In every Dreaming, it was never enough.
With a final great lurch, and the brief screams of those too slow, the world ended. The caldera Akash's people had called home crumbled and fell into glowing magma. The quake that precipitated it threw him and everybody else to the four winds. Briefly, through the cloud-cover, the daystar glared balefully like an eye. The sun was sick, the sky was burning with the breath of the rainbow serpent, and the world was succumbing to fire.
Akash wept. He knew how it would end. He knew how he would end.
♠♣♥♦
Chip swallowed hard as Ruff stopped speaking. The diamond dog pup lifted his paw off the page almost reverently, looking around like he'd just woken up from a dream.
"Their world... that's horrible!" Penny said, covering her muzzle with a wing. "What happens next?"
"What happens next is the group of children stopped slacking off in the library during Winter Wrap-Up," chimed in a unicorn. She was bay-coloured, and wore spectacles. "Out you go! Out, out!"
Grumbling under their breaths, the group of youngsters got up from slouching around the fire and headed reluctantly out of the library.
"That's better," the mare said, "except you, pup. You can help me put those books you've strewn about back."
"Awww! But that's your job, you're the librarian!"
"That's as maybe, but—"
Chip and his friends filed out. The sun was high, the sky was clear and there was a warmth permeating the countryside which had been missing for a good few months. Chip shook himself out as if he'd been stacked in a dark, dingy corner. He yawned, bellowing as he cleared his lungs, his arcane wings spreading almost reflexively.
"Luna's teeth! I'm glad winter's over, I've been cooped up too long. I think I'd much rather clear up snow than a librar—" Chip stopped so suddenly, Carmine, who had been chatting to Beth and not really listening nor watching where she was going, rammed straight into him.
"Chip?" asked Carmine, spitting out tail-hairs, "What's wrong?"
"Stupid question for you." Chip whirled, "Who in the name of the first egg was that?!"
"The... librarian? She, uh, she..."
"Have you ever actually seen her before?"
"No, not actually in the library, but—"
"But nothing. Come on!" Chip leaped straight over Carmine, barrelled past Thorn and Penny, and charged straight back into the library. His friends weren't far behind him. As the door slammed open, it revealed a cowering Ruff, fending off a strange, pony-like creature with luminous blue eyes. Its hide was black and chitinous, like some sort of beetle, the horn on its head was jagged, its legs were strangely holed and it had gossamer-like wings that shone with a pearlescent beauty.
Its face, however, had nothing beautiful about it, especially the expression. The expression it wore was something between pure hatred and a gloating sort of malice as it imagined all the pain and agony it was about to inflict on the small morsel in front of it.
That was, of course, until Chip hurtled through the door, rattling his armor threateningly. He'd left the ripper ring at home, but he had been wearing the bolas and the flank-plate. Now he regretted the omission. "Get away from him!" Chip yelled, planting all four hooves in the well-waxed floor and snorting loudly. He pawed at the parquet, scraping up huge lumps before raising his front lip and exposing his teeth.
The changeling looked up, its moves catlike and quick. It hissed angrily and leaped straight up, sticking to the walls just below the window, wings buzzing angrily. "You think you can stop me taking this little morsel to my queen?" it said, laughing throatily as it skittered sideways. In a flash of light, it looked like Carmine. It jumped down, quick as an arrow. Another flash, and it looked like Penny. A third flash and it looked like Chip. "Stop me? You can't stop me. You can't even find me!" Suddenly, it leaped for the true Chip.
Chip danced and whirled, his doppelganger following his moves with expert grace. Every lunge of his teeth snapped on empty air, every swipe with his tail sailed through where the creature had been moments before.
Gathering itself, it leaped and side-swiped at Chip, grabbing onto him with teeth. The young dragon returned the favour, tumbling end over end as they tussled, both kicking hooves and slashing with tails and biting with teeth. His armour clashed and clanged in a terrible din as it impacted against tables, chairs and the stove. He spared a brief thought for his new wings, but could do nothing but hope they would survive intact. He was occupied enough as it was making sure he survived.
"Chip!" shouted Carmine, voice hoarse with worry. She bolted to where she'd stowed her belongings, ferreting about in her bag before withdrawing two metallic objects, which she fiddled with using her beak and claws. "Keep an eye on them! Don't let either of them escape!"
"Which one is the real Chip?!" screamed Penny, wings flaring as she ran side to side. To their credit, neither Chip bothered denouncing the other, but the fighting did not diminish.
"You let me worry about that," squawked Carmine. Finished with her quick dress-change, she padded up to the growling, neighing bundles of testosterone. The griffon bunched up her muscles, eyes flicking to and fro as she patiently waited for her prey to be in the right position. Suddenly, spreading of her wings, Carmine pounced. Screeching loudly and raucously, she splayed her fore-talons out and slammed heavily into one of the two Chips. Rolling over and over, she body-slammed the impaled Chip and then threw him into a bookcase. Green rivulets of blood ran in spattery streams to where the creature had fallen, it's disguise failing as soon as Carmine's talons had pierced its tough, leathery hide.
"You get the hell away from my boyfriend, you soft-shelled carrion-eater!" Carmine swore, flexing her metal-sheathed talons, flicking pieces of changeling-meat from their blades. "You think you can fool me? A Griffon?!"
The wounded changeling pulled itself to its chitinous hooves, glaring balefully. "Clever little huntress."
"Clever enough to mark my prey. Move, and I'll skewer you." Carmine levelled one, long warbladed-claw at the creature.
"Big words from a hatchling. You think you have me?" The changeling was hurt, but something in it's demeanour worried Carmine. She wasn't going to let it show, though.
"We outnumber you, bug, and bleeding like that? You'll last hours, tops."
"These wounds are a trifle. And numbers? You want numbers?" The changeling threw back it's head and warbled a long, mournful cry. A few tens of seconds later, and there were answering howls from outside. And they were getting louder.
"What is... what have you done?" Carmine's little tufted ears swept back and her head-crest rose. Her feathers fluffed out as she felt the vibrations. "Everybody scatter!"
Not a moment too soon, the group leaped for their lives. The floor caved in as a group of diamond dogs demolished the foundations of the library, and the whole building sagged and began to crumble.
"Get out of here! Get out!" shouted Chip. He turned, grabbed Ruff by the scruff of his neck and slammed through what remained of the walls as it shattered before him. Penny and Bella leaped through a hole made by Thorn, and Beth and Carmine followed. Some ways from the devastation, Chip dropped Ruff and turned. Out of the dust and debris, rose six shapes. One of them was black, with wings that seemed far too delicate to have survived. The rest were hulking trolls with burning blue eyes, their claws raking the air in anticipation. More were digging their way out from underground.
"You think you can take us, little hatchlings? We are the Hive, and we are legion. Minions, attack!" The changeling pointed a hoof, taking to the air. The diamond dogs fell to all fours and growled, snarling and moving slowly forwards, eager to do their master's bidding.
Cautiously circling, Beth and Carmine took to the skies. Penny fled to the safety of an adjacent building. Thorn and Chip exchanged glances and nods, and lined up in front of Ruff as Bella flanked him.
"You get away from my town," Chip snarled, pawing at the ground. "Go back to whatever corner of Tartarus you came from, back under whatever rock you call home, and I'll let you live."
"I've squashed bigger bugs than you," Thorn growled. "I can handle whatever those are, and barely break a sweat."
Ruff wrinkled his nose. "Ruff think those... those not bugs. They not diamond dogs, neither, but they not bugs." He clutched the book tightly in his paws, knuckles white under his fur.
"Oh these are diamond dogs, little morsel. Or they were, only they've been feeding me instead of their alpha. They're my thralls, now. I will take them to my queen, and she will feed, and they will join our hive. But until then, they will serve me as I do her glorious work." The changeling rose higher into the sky, its wounds already closing over. "Give me what I want, and I'll let you go."
"I'll never give you what you want." Chip stomped a hoof for emphasis.
"Funny," the changeling said, swooping ahead of its troops, "that's what your mom and dad said to these fine fellows."
Chip lurched like he'd been slapped. There was a deep, sick feeling in his stomach, and if he'd had breakfast, it would have threatened to come back up. "My what?" he whispered.
"Don't listen, Chip," hissed Carmine, "it's trying to get into your head! It's what they do!"
"Where do you think I found out?" it hissed back, voice silky smooth. "They told me, foal, how your parents begged. They screamed and cried in the dark as their lifeblood flowed like water. They suffered, under the rock—"
"DAMN YOU TO TARTARUS!" screamed Chip, and he threw himself forwards, rage fuelling his motions. He exploded against the shocked changeling, slamming through the diamond dogs like they were made of paper, hooves fastening around the torso of the bug-like creature as his teeth fastened around it's neck. He rolled again and flicked his head, sending the changeling flying. Chip struggled to his hooves, tears streaming down his face. He hiccupped as he drew great sobbing breaths, gaze fixating on the trolls. "You bastards killed them! They were my parents! What did they ever do to you?!" Chip hung his head, eyes screwed tightly shut. "I was happy! I had everything! I have nothing you want!"
"High king... map... staff... book," said one of the semi-changeling diamond dogs.
"Give it us," said another.
"Ruff never give you anything!"
Chip looked at Ruff, "Get out of the way, I don't want them getting anywhere near that book. And I don't want you hurt."
"Why?" asked Ruff, his voice small as he clutched the odd tome to his chest, "what are you going to do?"
"What I'm going to do," growled Chip, "is give them a quick death." He opened his eyes, drawing his hoof across his muzzle. The tears stopped. His tail flicked angrily as he glared at the diamond dogs, they were fanning out to surround him. He backed up, pushing Ruff to safety, the bubbling anger and shame cooling to a dangerous, cool calm.
The diamond dog pup shivered and backed away as he spied the naked fury on Chip's muzzle. Ruff stared at his friend. He knew Chip was a dragon, but he'd never really internalized that. Now, he would have laughed at anybody claiming otherwise. He would have laughed, and then he would have told them to run. Chip squared his shoulders and lowered his head as he turned back to the hesitating changeling-trolls. "You took my parents from me," hissed Chip, his breath huffing and puffing like bellows. With every step forwards he took, little flickers of flame played around his muzzle. "You should've taken me too. I'd have been nothing then. I was a scared foal. I was a pony. Earth ponies..." Chip hesitated. For a moment, his voice wavered. "Earth ponies are strong," he whispered, his eyes shining wetly, "but they're not that strong. But you made me a dragon. You forged my heart with blood and steel, you filled it with flame, and you made one, fatal mistake."
"Mistake?" The changeling sneered. "What mistake? You were nothing, you are nothing, and you will be nothing."
Chip spread his wings wide, the twin Bevelmiter tubes on his back spitting sparks and light, and he held his tail high and took a deep breath.
Carmine raked her claws through the dirt. "I know what you did. You forgot to run."
Chip roared. A great gout of boiling yellow flame spewed from his muzzle and enveloped the surprised diamond dogs. Chip leaped, his wings flapping once to give him distance before furling closed. He spun, landing on his forehooves as his tail lashed out again and again. Two of the trolls were sent flying in moments.
Carmine's war-screech split the air as her talons sunk deeply into the back of another troll. This sent the diamond dog falling to the ground, but even as she bent her head to rip out his spine, yet another troll grabbed her forcefully by the wings and pulled. She screamed in pain as they were bent back by paws the size of dinner plates. The delicate bones would have snapped like dried twigs, if the troll in question hadn't howled in agony and fallen to his knees. Beth was crouching behind him, one wing outstretched, blood steaming in pools as it ran from the backs of his knees. She'd hamstrung him with her wingblades.
Thorn didn't wait for a second opening. He lunged, gripped the flailing troll by the shoulder blades and head, and twisted. There was an audible snap and the troll fell to the ground in a lifeless heap. His victory was short-lived, however as another troll pounced on him, teeth fastening on his shoulder. Snarling and whipping around, Thorn tried to throw the creature off. Howling in pain, he felt something in his shoulder give and one arm fell limply to his side. Desperately trying to get to his hind-paws, He was suddenly thrown to the ground by a great weight. There was an answering whinny, and the weight left him, along with the troll. Rolling over, he saw the troll was mouthing like a fish out of water. Seemingly in slow motion, the troll fell forwards. Thorn watched as the creature slid smoothly off the horn of a prone Bella to land in a crumpled, twitching heap. He fist-pumped with his good forepaw in thanks. Bella nodded and whirled to meet her next attacker. Thorn wordlessly got to his hind-paws and leaped to aid Chip, who was pummelling a troll with his forehooves.
Carmine raked her claws across the muzzle of a troll who was currently trying to pull her wing off. She snapped her beak and pulled, and something roughly orb-shaped came away with it. Pulling sharply, the creature's eye came completely out of its socket, the fleshy ligatures snapping. She crushed it with the serrated edges of her beak and spat. It tasted foul, she'd never liked the eyes of her prey, even though she knew it was an honour to be offered them. Pushing herself off the screaming creature, she turned. Spying Ruff, her heart went cold. Two large canids were towering over him. Each had grabbed hold of the book, and neither seemed about to let go of each other, nor their prize.
"Ruff!" she shouted, kicking out with her hind-paws to send another attacker flying.
Ruff wasn't letting go of the book either. His paws were tight around the book as he spun, trying to throw the two trolls off. Screwing up his muzzle, he shouted, "get away from me!"
Time seemed to stop for a moment. Then there was a bright flash, and two huge spears of rock slammed upwards from the ground into the two attacking trolls, throwing them into the air. Ruff looked down at his paws, holding the book, just long enough for the changeling to swoop down and snatch it from him. With a warbling cry of victory, the creature turned on its gossamer wings and accelerated away.
"Come back!" shouted Ruff, clenching his fists. He took off at a dead run after the bug-like creature. He paid no heed to the bewitched trolls that tried to stop him. With barely a flick of his eyes, he sent more spears of rock into any attackers. More than a few of them pierced the trolls in question, bloodied spires of granite sprouting from their backs.
The changeling looked back, hissing in anger. "To me! Protect the hive!" it called, smirking as another small group of trolls emerged from under the ground. Ruff stopped short, hind claws skidding in the soft, wet ground. There was a lot of snarling, but Ruff growled all the louder. Clenching his paws together, he balled them into fists, and swept them apart. Before him, the ground opened up and the trolls in front of him fell into it. In one smooth motion, Ruff brought his fists together. And the ground answered. The chasm slammed together with a final-sounding crunch that left nothing of the group but a red smear and a few limbs flopping around loosely.
Before he could move, though, a fist slammed into the back of his head, sending him sprawling. There was the snick of claws as the troll bent to eviscerate him, but another troll slammed into the one that loomed over the pup and careened off, running on all fours, tongue lolling out and short tail flipping up and down as the alpha dog rushed past.
It looked back over its shoulder, pausing mid-stride. It spied Chip, and grinned viciously. "My lady sends greetings, whelp, and a warning. Go home, and maybe you won't meet the same fate as your parents."
Chip, muzzle bloodied and limping slightly, snarled in wordless answer. The diamond dog turned again, gaze fixated on the changeling. It growled low and took off in a run over the desert after its prey. Beth and Carmine furled their wings as they landed next to Chip. Thorn loped up, helping Ruff upright.
"They got book," whined Ruff, rubbing the back of his head.
"It's okay, pup," Penny said, wings flapping slowly and smoothly as she came in for a landing. "You did good. You did your best. Where'd you learn to do that thing with the rocks?"
"Mishka taught Ruff," said Ruff, looking at his paws as he turned them over and over. "Mishka show how. Ruff miss Mishka. Ruff remembered."
Penny nuzzled him softly. "We stopped them hurting us. Mostly." she looked around, grinning hopefully.
"We stopped them, alright, but they got away." Carmine kicked the wheezing diamond dog over, hissing when she saw its bright blue eyes. "All except this one."
Chip put one hoof on the creatures chest and looked into its muzzle. His gaze could have frozen tartarus. "Tell me what you know."
"I... we... never tell."
"Tell me what I want to know, and I will let you live."
The troll just laughed. "Try. Try make me."
Chip grit his teeth. "You will—"
The chuckling, burbling laugh silenced him. "You cannot make me, whelp. Already have owner. Changelings..." the creature coughed, gaze far off. "They try take, but... they can't. Not really." the troll closed his eyes, and opened them again. The blue glow faded. "Mistress more powerful than them. More powerful than you, little dragon. She know so much more than you. She sent me to mines. She sent your parents to trap, and she bid us seal them under rock."
Chip stepped back. "You... really did?" His voice was momentarily small.
"Mother begged." the creature laughed throatily, sneering. "I left her to die, she knew nothing. Mistress know everything, whelp. She is world. She—hurk!" his words were cut off by Chip's hoof on his neck.
"If she knows so damned much, then send her this message, dog." Chip was fighting back tears, rage and flame. He pushed his hoof against the troll's body, causing the hound to whine in pain. He flailed ineffectually against the pressure, begging for release, but there would be no mercy.
Eyes burning with hatred, Chip dipped his head, fastened his jaws around the troll's throat, and ripped it out.
♠♣♥♦
Stats
Page generated in 0.031 seconds
Total duration
983 users online
1,665,298 hits today, 2,814,898 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Whelp, my editors have been through most of it, but I'm impatient. I'm probably going to regret this as usual, but have a cliff-hanger of a chapter to chew over. I promised you a roller coaster, and that's what you're getting. Beware the double-dip.
1975082
I can't remember if I named it after that story's book or not - essentially (in at least dog latin) "arcanum e draconus" means something like "the deep secret wisdom of dragons", so is kind of part and parcel of any high-fantasy world where such tomes exist. At any rate, I loved that story too. My Little Alicorn makes me laugh, as does the Bringing Up Blueblood sequel.
(Joke) Alt. Title: King Of OCs
And featured ones to boot.
Now thats one way to get ahead.
Woo! Nice to see the flight harness in action! Also really cool to get more back story on the Diamond Dogs and see Ruff come into his own as a fighter. I still like the DD's original sun changing to a red giant / nova theory, though I can't really tell one way or the other.
I also learn more and more about how to write dialog and description whenever I read your chapters, so thanks!
... welp, Ruff officially took about twenty six levels in badass and seventeen in AMAZING! WHOA!
It was... really, really awesome to see the entire crew go full-bore like that. I do wonder what Sharptooth and Hairpin are going to have to say, though... and odds are good Sharptooth will be letting Pig Iron know... wooooooow!
Goddamn Changelings! Always the fucking Changelings!
To be honest, I found the battle scene a bit unrealistic. We've seen evidence of Chip's badassery before, and Thorn (being the physically oldest of the group) didn't come as much of a surprise for being a fighter. I suppose it can be argued that Carmine and Beth, being griffons, had been trained to fight from a young age, but given their relative youth and inexperience I find it difficult to believe that they would be able to hold their own against fully mature and experienced diamond dogs. Ruff, in particular, was a bit overdone. Considering that he is the youngest of the group, I would think that he would have had a much more emotional experience to his first kill, instead he was just kind of running around impaling people like Alucard and not giving a damn. Emotional duress and anger at the book being stolen could account for most of this, but given the omniscient point of view this story uses I don't think we got enough insight into Ruff's mindset during this to truly justify his behavior.
So, all in all, I'd say the battle scene was really cool, but not altogether fitting or prudent for the story at this time. It seems to me to be one of those moments where you're in such a rush for the characters to be badass that you neglect to give them the proper amount of experience and growth to get there. This is just my opinion, however, please don't take offense
1986752
No, I'm glad to have feedback. The thing is, the battle was left at the halfway point because I was impatient to post the chapter. The fallout, the reasoning, the collection and rationalization of it all hasn't been done.
Truth me told, Thorn's injury was a lucky shot by the troll that bit him and nothing more. As the only member of the party bar Chip and the griffons who was looked at twice, he got all the attention. Ruff isn't going to handle his abilities perfectly. Now he's through the blood-rush, the enormity of what it means not only to him, but the pack that essentially threw him out is going to hit home. They're not ready, they were lucky - they were fighting brain-addled betas that had been milked for their physical and mental energy, otherwise they wouldn't have stood much of a chance had the force been larger or actually organized.
This is going to be demonstrated in chapter 16. Maybe next time I'll wait for my editors to go through it properly first. I need feedback like this before I publish. It's frustratingly hard to get.
Hmm, fimfic fail... for some reason this didn't show up as unread in my list...
[edit]
Ugh, and again, I haven't read anything after the history stuff... bleghh. Hard to edit your chapters if you don't alert people once you got a final draft
right. Post-publish editing it is, then
>"That's as maybe, but—"
"as may be". Not "maybe".
>it's disguise failing
AUGH! This is why you need me! "its"!
> Out of the dust and debris, rose six shapes.
No need for a comma there.
1990624
consider my hoof smacked. Again.
1990850
Darn right. Well, at least the battle you added was properly epic
This was exciting and awesome, and I loved it.
There are a few things I would note that I felt were just a little lacking - Chip's flame attack seemed a missed opportunity, I expected charred flesh - nothing seemed to happen as a result of his 'yellow gout of flame'. I also expected Chip to do more than rip out the troll's throat - I expected him to tear it's head clean off and toss it away. That thing killed his mother. Then again... I have been watching some of the old Ultraman Seven series lately, and he regularly kills monsters with ripped-off parts of their own bodies so... It could just be that affecting me. The beak ripping the eye scene was appropriately squicky, well done.
I am LOVING the Bevelmeiter's and the wings. Lovely.
This chapter, despite it's length, positively flew by.
"Scrying" generally means divination, remotely viewing a distant point in space and/or time. Are you sure you didn't mean "inscribing"?
In any case, great fight scene, nice bit with Luna, and fantastic maiden flight with the new harness. The scene in the Diamond Dogs' home plane was downright disturbing in its eschatological intensity. Oh, and Ruff's new found geokinesis is freaking awesome. Definitely looking forward to more.
I like the part where the pony rips out a Diamond Dog's throat...
*Makes unintelligible noises.*
I read the next chapter before this one!!! I swear, it never showed up!!! I thought that it was some weird flash-forward...
Anyways...
World building, fighting, some revelations for Chip. I loved the line "You forgot to run." That was gold.
Why do you make Luna baddy? WHY!? She's been befriended by the Elements of Harmony, and Twilight in particular, who wouldn't take even the slightest hint at evilness lightly. Unless she's not really going to turn out on the bad trail, maybe she's after the staff to hide it? Destroy it? Hm, I just don't see why she's being the evil one, unless she's not. I spun myself around
.
THAT CHAPTER however, was epic, the fight scene was good, and I understand why Thorn got hit so badly early in, he's the oldest, and biggest of the group, in Diamond Dog logic, that makes him the biggest threat, I just hope the wound isn't permanently disabelling. And also, this is a good fight scene, in that all were well represented, in a way, also they were against stronger opponents, and they didn't get away unscathed. I don't envy Ruff for the emotional hit of killing for the first time, but also, He's been named as King of the Diamond Dogs now, giving him an intrinsic advantage in controlling his abilities. Also he's an upset child who was told what to do by one the closest links between D-Dogs and thier homeland, I wouldn't want to upset him.
A few small mistakes, but nothing serious, and they've already been mentioned above.
Great chapter, reading on.
Honora Imperator
OH SNAP!
Want.
Jealous.
And here I had dismissed that feeling I got upon their first mention. Silly me. You'd think I'd be used to reading minds by now.
Also, capitalization.
Anyway, welcome to the game, player four. I assume you know the rules already? Here's your seat, and I hope you're comfortable since we're probably going to be here all night at least. Feel free to help yourself to some M&Ms; you know we've got plenty.
Do the wings work? Do they work by the principles they're supposed to? Can they be removed? I've always kind of wondered how clothes and such work for changelings.
Sometimes, being a pony-shaped dragon just makes it too easy. Not when they attack because they don't know to fear, of course. The easiest way to deal with enemies is to have them never dare oppose you. But the second easiest is to have them grossly underestimate you.
Would that make Ruff a stonetalker, then? Quite a far cry from a few months ago when he didn't even know how to dig.
They grow up so fast. One day, Tia drops them on your doorstep, and before you know it they're killing diamond dogs with their bare teeth, even though it seems like just yesterday they didn't even believe they were dragons.
And now I don't have to idly wonder if his teeth are a match for raw meat. Not that I thought it very likely the answer was "no."
Quarter through the chapter: Wait, is that actually Luna's staff? Or does she think it holds power and wants it?
"Troll, it's what's for dinner"
Sooo... Luna too? Every story with this much depth have Luna and Celestia never speak about their intentions and it always blows up in their face spectacularly. Like... how can be thousands of years old, yet they treat each other like twelve-year-olds?