• Published 8th Jul 2012
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King of Diamonds - Midnightshadow

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Tooth & Claw - Part II

♠♣♥ King of
Diamonds
The Ambassador's Son - Book 2
════════════════════

Chapter 22
Tooth and Claw
Part II
An MLP:FiM Fanfiction by Midnight Shadow


♠♣♥

An archway in the side of the Great Harmony glowed brilliantly for a moment before the façade split in two, swivelling inwards. The panelling shifted and reformed once more into the floating platforms. This time they led to a sturdy, yet perilously high and exposed, gantry. The walkway itself led to another wide gantry that ringed the tower, suspended high up near the summit of the beacon-tower where the airship itself was moored. Trying to look as cool and collected as possible whilst gritting her teeth as hard as she could so her knees didn't knock together, Bella followed the rest of the gang out. As the only team-member without wings – other than Ruff, who seemed blissfully ignorant of this fact – the sheer drop on either side was less than palatable to her. She was used to climbing up rocky scree to get to griffon eyries, but this! This was something else entirely.

The view was incredible; mind blowing, sanity crushing, but incredible. Below the tower stretched a forest of wind-hewn rock palaces, a sea of stone-built cathedrals and an eclectic, lively mix of narrow streets and colourful bunting. Merchants' tents dotted the wide-open squares, and awnings leaned haphazardly against each other all across the gargantuan city, a veritable smorgasbord of life. Through and above it all swarmed a multitude of creatures; a plethora of ponies, griffons, minotaurs, fawn-like satyrs, giant scorpions, eagles, wolves, and far, far more, slithered, walked, flapped or crawled their way amongst the scenery, but outnumbering all of these were the dragons. From the smallest and meekest of drakes to the most massive and proud of the gargantuan great wyrms – the latter picking their lumbering way through the throng without heed for others, as nobody was ignorant or stupid enough to get in their way – Leviathania swarmed with them. There were even quick-winged scavenging wyverns and other lizard-like pests, pecking at scraps and fighting for leftovers from the myriad food stalls.

Bella had been to Neighvada. She'd even been to Canterlot, once. But this... this was busier still than both of those put together. The sheer amount of life present was shaking her to the core. She'd never experienced what she dimly remembered was called sociophobia before. Now she would be able to wax lyrical about it, should anypony ask. The acidic burnt-spice melange of dragons was everywhere, it permeated everything, subsuming all other odours within it. She half-expected everything she touched to be... somehow greasy, or dirty – after all, stories of dragons and their propensity for flame, gas or poison was almost legendary – but it wasn't so. The city almost sparkled, baked as it was in an overpowering, dry heat that sucked every wick of moisture away, leaving nothing but its memory floating on the parched wind.

Leaning over the edge of the railings, minding the giddying urge to jump, she scanned the scenery before her. The white-hot sunlight reflected off of limpid pools of water, sending scintillating flashes of light scurrying in every conceivable direction. Dragons lounged in these pools. They sunbathed on the adjacent rocks. They congregated in small groups, hazy clouds of blue-green smoke hanging over them as they passed around hookahs and chatted. It took her several minutes to realize that the dragons she could see with such detail weren't somehow nearer, nor was it a trick of the light. They were just large.

Shaking herself to clear her head, she nickered in answer to the insistent calls of her friends, who had tired of sight-seeing slightly quicker. Bella trotted towards the central spire of the tower, the safe route down.

Ruff, for his part, didn't seem overly worried by his lack of wings. He scampered back and forth between the railings and the ship, speeding around the tower multiple times, ogling the sights. His enthusiasm didn't rub off on either the wyverns, the six-limbed lizards, or the other sky-dwellers that dotted the spire. They scattered like petals in the wind as he came bounding up to them. They called out raucously and fluttered to safety, scuttling or just plain skittering away from the bundle of energy.

Hairpin, catching the troll by the scruff of his neck, giggled like a filly as she finally led the way around to an elevator. "Everybody follow me," she said, mumbling around the struggling pup. Carmine and Beth eyed the structure suspiciously as they approached.

"I'm not entirely sure I want to," replied Carmine, fluffing her feathers up. "If the First hadn't wanted us to fly, she wouldn't have given us wings."

"You do know that there are dragons around here big enough you'd barely be an in-flight snack on the way to the ground?" asked Hairpin, smiling sweetly. Ruff, still dangling from her muzzle, blanched as he glanced at the distant ground. Carmine's feathers elevated noticeably. "Thought so," said Hairpin with a smirk, noting how Beth – who had obviously been contemplating the same – slinked back to the center of the gantry. She finally placed the pup down, then gestured with her head towards the elevator. "Get in."

The elevator was large, very large – one could almost say colossal. The doors were made of huge criss-crossed metal bars as thick as a pony's hind legs, with a latch in the center almost as big as a pony's head. If they hadn't been expertly counterbalanced, they would have been impossible to shift. Thus it was with some incredulity that the group beheld the slight-looking creature that had opened the doors and now hovered before them: he looked, for all intents and purposes, like a large, flying beetle. Mostly because that's what he was. He studied them with oversized compound eyes that protruded from a head that was almost submerged by its carapace, but which was nevertheless all but hidden beneath an overly wide, brown fedora. The leopard-skin pattern that rimmed his head-piece sported corks around the brim that swung in the breeze, agitated by the two antennae that rose out from beneath it. He was covered in bright green and red chitin, with six legs that hung loosely by his side as twin pairs of wings blurred behind him, keeping him aloft. Wings buzzing frantically, he exited the car and flew from group member to group member, inspecting them. "Hmm," he said, "yes, yes..."

"Hey, would you buzz off?" complained Carmine, waving a wing.

The creature stopped his meandering from youngster to youngster and turned around to look at the griffoness. "Haywood?" said the insect, in surprise. "Naah, he's my cousin. I'm Ivan."

"Ivan?" asked Bella, flicking her tail inquisitively. Immediately, the buzzing beetle flew to the unicorn and offered a limb.

"Ivancha D'Jaboozarf," he said, lifting his hat with another limb as he offered yet another to Ruff, who had clambered up onto Bella's back to stand on her withers. "Best guide in Leviathania."

The pup leaned forwards from his perch and wobbled as he held on to Bella's mane for balance. He tentatively shook the leg. When he withdrew his paw, he stared at it in a mixture of horror and burning curiosity.

"You are our guide?" exclaimed Carmine, moments later, cocking her head left and right as she examined the strange creature. Chip perked his ears up and snuffled at the newcomer, stepping closer, but Bella and Penny shied back. Beth clicked her beak thoughtfully, unsure whether to greet or eat him.

Ivan either hadn't noticed the hungry look on the griffoness or had decided to ignore it. Chip idly wondered if it was a professional hazard. "The one and only," the beetle continued, zooming out to meet them and striking a magnificent pose – all two foot three inches of him gleaming in the sun. "Came up ta see what was stallin' ya. Come on, ya don't want ta keep the big boss waiting." The beetle buzzed back into the elevator car and beckoned with his antennae. "Trust me on that. Come on." He turned around neatly in the air and headed for the elevator's control panel.

"Lead on, my good, er, bug," stated Hairpin cheerfully. As one, the entire group turned to the pegasus. She shrugged her wings at their questioning stares. "If you want a guide, you want somebody who knows everybody. And... insects—"

Ivan bobbed agreeably in the air, lifting his hat again.

"—know everybody."

"One of these days," muttered Carmine as she followed the pair into the elevator, "I'm going to run out of surprise."

Hairpin swatted the griffon with her tail. "Hanging around dragons? Trust me, you don't."

Carmine side-glanced at Chip, who had the decency to blush. He found a sudden fascination in the décor of the car's ceiling, a fascination so binding even Ruff chuckled at it.

Once everybody was in the car, the doors closed, and it descended. As it moved, a tinny, annoying excuse for what might charitably be called – by creatures with no appreciation for aural expression – music started up. A short while later, the toneless showtunes ceased, and the doors re-opened. The group was presented with an opulently decorated hallway, which they beheld in silent awe. The ceiling was high, lit by natural sunlight. It streamed in through gleaming, diamond-paned skylights. The doors that led off on either side were wide and tall, made of a rich, dark, oak-like wood. The spacious corridors leading to them weren't so much corridors as halls in their own right, and the group's assorted steps echoed plainly.

Penny and Bella hung back, feeling uncommonly jumpy, each nervously putting one hoof after the other as they sought to keep every corner of every archway in sight at once. Hairpin chuckled as she spied them and whispered, "Try to relax."

Penny's wings twitched at the elder pegasus' words. "What!? I mean, uh, what?"

"Dragons do that to ponies," Hairpin continued. "You'll get used to it. You guys don't hang around Sharptooth much, and Chip's just one dragon, so you've probably not noticed it with him these last few days either, but they have this... presence. It doesn't affect trolls and griffons so much, but to ponies... it can raise your hackles. And with all these dragons out there, you're just catching their scent."

"I thought it was just nerves, from the whole airship thing back in Neighvada, but it's been getting worse as we've been going along," hissed Penny. "I just feel so... jumpy!"

"It's because we're almost there," comforted Hairpin, spreading a wing over the younger pegasus.

"Almost where?" asked Bella, a little too loudly.

"Here!" exclaimed Ivan. The group had come to the end of the last hallways, and two huge double doors stood proudly in front of them. With a flourish, the beetle threw them open. Instantly, the previously quiet hallway was subsumed in a tidal-wave of commotion. Hawkers selling wares, passersby gabbling, wings fluttering, creatures calling and a thousand other sounds – and the myriad of smells that went with all the diverse members of Leviathanian society – all poured in in an unstoppable deluge. Bella and Penny's ears flattened against their necks, but they fought against it and trotted out, slowly, into harsh sunlight.

"Welcome, to Leviathania. Home of the dragons, shining jewel in the crown of the draconic hegemony and gateway to a thousand sins of the flesh. Out there, you can find your heart's desire, win your fortune, and lose it all in the blink of an eye. And that's just before breakfast. Follow me, and don't dawdle."

Ivan flew out into the scorching daylight and floated down the steps. He stopped at the bottom and turned, staring at the group that seemed almost entirely frozen into stone. "Are you coming or what?"

Ah, Leviathania, Leviathania! The city at the heart of the Draconic Realm! The city so nice, they named it twice. It lay spread out before them in all its glory. Sandstone, granite, and marble, shaped by claws over aeons; ancient, petrified wood covered in geological ages of varnish and paint; gaudy, colourful streamers suspended from simple twine; glass, steel, and crystal worked on by masters; all of these things, and more, surrounded the astonished travellers, but that was nothing compared to the olfactory and auditory onslaught of the denizens of this sprawling megalopolis. It was mere window-dressing compared to the close-up and personal impact of ten thousand alien cultures, each one uniquely blending with the rest in a cornucopia of the strange. There were bird-like creatures standing on boxes, screeching at the top of their lungs in melodic yet raucous cries as they held tomes aloft. There were many-limbed, feathered acrobats and bat-like magicians performing tricks for oddly-shaped coins or, in some cases, small furry creatures in cages. Here was a row of hooded, solemn pilgrims marching in single file to destinations unknown, murmuring benedictions to unseen masters, and there called out those offering spiritual salvation, fleshly temptations and bodily absolution. And sometimes all three at once.

"First time in the big city, huh?" asked Ivan, bobbing up and down in a silent display of laughter at the shell-shocked faces of his charges. "Yeah, hits 'em all like that the first time," he said, half to himself. "Buck up. You'll get over it." He gestured again, then shrugged and fluttered back up the steps and took up station on Chip's neck, entwining his legs in Chip's mane. "Come on, my son, onward to glory!"

"A-are you sure it's safe?" twittered Penny, hiding behind the griffons.

"Safe?" buzzed Ivan, fluttering his wings impatiently. "Of course not! Safe... pfft. But that's why I'm here!" He puffed out his chest.

"You can stay in the airship, if you want," said Chip suddenly, with a resolute swish of his tail as he narrowed his eyes, "but I came here to see the emperor – if anybody knows where the staff is, it'll be him. And I'm not turning back now." However much I may want to, he added, silently.

"And I'm coming with you," said Carmine emphatically.

"And I'm coming too," proclaimed Bethany, with resignation, "if only to make sure she doesn't get in trouble because of you."

Carmine rolled her eyes. Bethany fluffed her neck-feathers out and lifted her beak with a "humph!" as Chip's ears perked up with glee.

"Where you go, Master," said Hairpin, "I go, until you tell me otherwise."

"Ruff want see big city! Not afraid!" said Ruff. He stood up on Bella's shoulders, keeping tight hold of her mane. He dug in twice with his heels. "Giddy up!"

"Hey! One more like that, mister, and you're walking!" huffed the unicorn. Then she trotted down the steps, swishing her tail impatiently at Penny. "Come on, then! All of you!"

"That's the spirit, luv!" exclaimed Ivan, pumping the air with two limbs as he leaped upwards, dragging Chip's mane skywards. "If you can make it in this nuthouse," he said, pointing with a third limb to the group and the fourth out into the throng, "you can make it anywhere in the nine realms." Then he took three of his limbs and breathed on them before buffing them against his gleaming shell. "With a little help from yours truly, the expert, o'course. Take a right at the bottom of these steps an' head down Drum Street, towards the bridge. We'll be at the palace of D'Long Kerk in no time!"

Ivan led the way, calling out to various shady-looking acquaintances and somehow clicking his feelers at them. Odd exclamations poured back and forth, like "Yo Vinny!" – "Hey dawg, I got you that tree fiddy!" and "Silas, my man, lookin' sharp!" – "Stay frosty, Ivan!"

Penny eyed the strange creature, then leaned closer to Hairpin. "Do those words mean talk?" she asked breathily.

"Search me," whispered the elder pegasus, "but he seems to know where he's going."

Ivan continued with his occasional greetings and monologue, pointing out the sights to the gang as they trudged through the hot, dusty, maze-like streets. They wandered into a flea market for a while, but the fleas really pushed the hard sell and didn't appreciate their lack of currency, so Ivan endeavoured to leave before the bargaining for belongings started and the parasites took the shirts off their backs... which seeing as they weren't wearing shirts, could have proved to be troublesome.

It wasn't long before the commercial districts gave way to more palatial, opulent environs. First the wares became less incidental, like food stalls, and more fundamental, like building materials and slaves. Then the shops thinned out altogether, replaced with bath-houses, saunas and other relaxed meeting places. Dragons, griffons and creatures of all sorts met around pungent hookahs, smoky firepits or steaming hot springs. Continual soft murmurs sussurrated from all quarters as deals were made and fortunes won or lost. Through it all moved Ivan, Chip, and all his friends.

Reaching the palace was no relief from the glittering strangeness; it just compounded their distance from home. The palace itself was visible through humongous iron-wrought gates that were spread wide open. There was no impenetrable barricade, as such, just a foot-high stone wall and the gates – but it was crystal clear that the land beyond lay under the claw of a being that saw mere physical fortifications as superfluous. There were still hot rocks, and griffons, ponies and other creatures, but now all the non-dragons were obviously servants, tending to the dragons. And the dragons...

"Female!" blurted Chip, suddenly.

Carmine's neck feathers fluffed up at the word. "What?" she asked stonily, as Chip stopped walking.

"I mean, uh... all the dragons, they're females," he said, slowly, not quite meeting her eyes.

"And you noticed this why?" Carmine turned her head and fixed chip with a smouldering gaze.

"I, er, I just—"

"We will speak of this later," grumped Carmine, head-crest rising indignantly.

Ivan looked at the griffin and then down at his erstwhile mount. "You and the lass, you an item? Cos that's how it starts, you know," offered the beetle.

"Believe me," muttered Chip darkly, as he started walking again, "I know."

Ivan whistled appreciatively. "Classy bird, that," he whispered. Then he cleared his throat and spoke aloud as the trek continued. "This is the court of the sun-king," Ivan stated, "and those are his wives."

"Wives? Plural?" gasped Bethany, all of her feathers fluffing up until she was several times her usual girth.

Hairpin cleared her throat and extended a wing, gently touching the shocked Griffon. "Dragons are exceptionally long-lived creatures," she said softly, pausing sadly for a moment. Then she continued, with a stronger voice, "with exceedingly long memories. They hold on to their agreements as fiercely as they hold on to their grudges. Grudges mean... trouble. Agreements bring peace, with disparate clans coming together as one. Deals are often sealed with..." Hairpin stopped suddenly and waved a hoof, standing awkwardly on three legs as she sought for the right words.

"I think I see," said Carmine with distaste.

"Quite," continued Hairpin, as they began moving again, trotting past a gaggle of giggling dragonesses. "It usually turns out for the best though; remember what I said about grudges? It kind of works both ways, so it pays to keep them happy." Carmine and Beth both raised eyeridges, so Hairpin continued. "The emperor will marry off some brides in exchange for new deals, or place others in charge of certain state functions—"

"Like Galeru?" interrupted Bella suddenly, ears flicking forwards. "Queen Dowager..." the pony rolled the word around in her mouth, thinking. "That's who Julius said his employer was, so she's..."

"Yup," said Ivan, butting in. "Her old man kicked the bucket. He was nephew of some sort to the emperor. Of course the emperor married her; it's his duty."

"But that's monstrous! Doesn't the emperor marry for love? Don't his wives?!" hissed Bethany.

Ivan chuckled. "Monogamous, are ya?"

Bethany's feathers fluffed up more than ever before. "Very."

"Ah, kid, yer a lass after me own heart. Happily married meself, with the bug o' my dreams and sixty nippers, cutest little swarm you ever saw. Dragons, though, don't see things the same way. I can't say it's a perfect arrangement," explained Ivan, "but when love steps in, the emperor steps out. And the emperor himself... well, let's say that with the station comes certain responsibilities. Love is hard to come by, and bein' the emperor don't stop for it. Is your emperor—"

"King," correct Bethany, sniffing haughtily.

"—your king hitched?"

"He is, very happily so," huffed Carmine.

"Celestia isn't," said Penny, in a small voice. "Sometimes I wonder if she's sad. She lives so much longer than the rest of us."

Silenced reigned after that, and they marched through the palace grounds, deep in thought. The silence only deepened as the palace itself loomed before them. It was as gargantuan as all the other examples of Leviathanian architecture. It was made of meticulously worked blocks of onyx, marble, sandstone and granite, each slab placed with such precision that the edifice was almost seamless, the myriad hues accentuating each other in a breath-taking dance of geometric designs. Alabaster spires reached towards the heavens, topped with golden cupolas that gleamed brighter than the sun. Extravagantly stoneworked buttresses and battlements stamped their master's mark upon the very world itself, and thousands of brightly coloured pennants and flags fluttered in the blistering breeze.

A wide expanse of gleaming marble steps led up to an imposing archway guarded by two motionless, ferocious-looking wolf-like draconic creatures bedecked in gleaming golden armour. They sat on their haunches at attention before two gold-wrought doors that were more than big enough for the entire group to walk through abreast, with their wings extended no less.

"You, er, sure this is the right place?" squeaked Bella. "Because we could, you know, go see if there's a different emperor or something."

"Yeah," said Penny, "he might not be in, or maybe he's busy..."

"Don't let it get to you," said Chip. He looked up at the guards and the doors, swallowing heavily. Hesitatingly, he placed on hoof on the first step. It was very hard not to notice how small his hoof was, when compared to that step. Their guide seemed entirely unfazed though. Opening his carapace and extending his wings, Ivan disentangled himself from Chip's mane and took off to approach the guards.

"Yo, party of seven to see the boss. He's expecting us." The only answer at first was a growl. Ivan snorted indignantly. "Yes, now. I ain't got all day, and neither does he."

The two creatures shared a glance, then turned back to Ivan. "Then enter, if you dare," rumbled the other of the two. The pair nodded at each other, turned smartly, and walked to the center of the huge portal. They pushed steadily on the two great doors, which swung ponderously and silently inwards on well-oiled hinges until, with an echoing crash, the doors hit the inside wall. The impact sent shockwaves through the surrounding area; the griffins merely squawked, ruffling their feathers, and the pegasi took flight. Chip and Bella stumbled, Ruff tightening his grip until the unicorn whinnied in pain. As the echoes faded, row upon row of torches burst into flames, illuminating the dark and forbidding interior with flickering, yellow light.

"He does it for effect, you know," said Ivan, tapping one of his hind-digits in mid-air as he waited for the show to be over.

"Bloody well works," said Bethany, feathers slowly settling.

Inside, the air was cool and refreshing. The doors swung closed of their own accord once the last of the party had crossed the threshold. Barely waiting for his companions, Chip strode on ahead in a display of bravado. It was far too late to turn back, not that he wanted to. It had been too late for that the moment he'd stepped inside the emperor's palace grounds, but that didn't stop him from thinking about it.

The carpet was luscious and thick. so thick that not even the griffon's claws were truly touching the gleaming marble floor beneath. It was a rich, rich red, the colour of wine. Or blood, thought Carmine, darkly. The torches burned brightly, with warm orange flames, but produced no smoke. There didn't even seem to be any fuel. The arches disappeared skywards, to where the ceiling was hidden in shadow.

"Where do we go?" asked Bella, as their trip continued to lengthen. The front doors were somewhere behind them, now, lost in a maze of twisting and turning passages.

"I think we just keep moving onwards," replied Penny in a whisper.

"And upwards," added Ivan, much louder, pointing to a set of small steps.

The group trooped silently through the palace, huddling closer together with every twist and turn. Many long minutes passed before the silence was broken.

"We're almost there," said Chip suddenly, forcing a bravery he hardly felt, his voice echoing weakly. "Just follow me."

"Oh, I can tell," replied Carmine sarcastically, "by how all the arches look exactly the same!" She spread her wings and shook a foreclaw at the nearest sconce. Its flames wavered apologetically. "We've been following this corridor for ages! How do you know we're not just plain lost?"

"We're getting nearer," said Chip, his voice a little hoarse. "I can... I can feel it. It's like... it's like a weight, on my withers. Like I can smell smoke, and it's getting stronger. Dragons have this kind of... presence. One dragon can always tell another is near. And the emperor is near."

"Oh, great," said Carmine, rolling her eyes and slapping Chip with a wing. "Either we're getting nearer to our doom at the claws of some gigantic wyrm, or the castle's on fire. Either way, if I die, I'm never speaking to you again."

Chip grinned through his teeth. Outwardly, he was calm. Internally, his stomach was doing backflips. Chip's eyes fixed on the end of the corridor, shrouded in gloom. One hoof after the other, he told himself, and show no fear. He didn't want to let the others know how scared he was, for fear they'd suggest to turn back, and he'd agree.

"Think he's through there?" asked Bella, pointing her horn as another pair of double doors emerged from the gloom at the end of the corridor.

"No, I don't think so," said Chip, flicking his ears about in confusion. "There's something odd about this place. I can't put my hoof on it, but there's—"

"I wouldn't worry about it none," said Ivan. "When you're as big a boss as Quincy, little things like space and time don't worry you so much."

"What?" squawked Carmine.

"I mean, the emperor is exactly where he wants to be, and—"

"He's called Quincy?!" blurted Bethany, sharing an astonished glance with Carmine.

"Only by his friends," replied Ivan, buffing a leg.

"You know emperor?" squeaked Ruff, tail tucking between his legs.

"...No," sulked Ivan, deflating a little. "Can ya put in a good word for me?"

"I'll... try. I guess," said Chip. He swallowed heavily again. "That's assuming he even agrees to see me," he added in a small voice. He pulled up sharply at the doors and raised a hoof. It hung there as he hesitated. Sheepishly, he put it down again. "Ready?" he asked, hoping they wouldn't be.

"As ever, Master," said Hairpin. She gestured at Chip with a hoof of her own, urging him to open them.

He snorted at the title but turned to the double doors. He raised his forehoof again, and was about to knock, when the doors swung open of their own accord.

Inside... was not the emperor. Instead, there was a banquet, spread out on a multitude of tables that all but filled the room. The dining hall was brightly lit and welcoming, though devoid of other occupants.

Chip's stomach rumbled, loudly, breaking the silence.

"Food!" cried Ruff as he bounded in.

"I, er, guess that's for us," said Chip, grinning weakly.

"Who else is it gonna be for, dragon-boy," smirked Carmine, and she and Bethany strode straight in. The two practically dived into a platter of something which looked like it hadn't been dead for long and immediately started devouring it.

The food on offer was plentiful and varied: apples, bananas, coconuts... just the fruits ran almost the entire alphabet, right down to zap apples. In other piles further down, there were steaming plates of cooked – and raw – meat, and bushels of select nuts, grains and vegetables. There were even piles of silver and gold, in both coins and bars.

Chip trotted in after them, letting his gaze run up and down the loaded tables, his mouth watering, before hoofing a selection of precious metals and gems onto a platter. The silver tasted oddly minty to Chip's palate, and the golden bars tasted like – Chip smacked his lips thoughtfully – chocolate, mixed with coffee. He pondered again whether it was due to the smithing or simply geography. Idle thoughts of draconic cuisine fluttered through his mind as he chewed. Ruff had been sniffing at a few rock-cakes, which he had nibbled at, but he finally settled on some skewers of what appeared to be cooked chicken. The ponies descended on the fruits, nuts and grains – Bella's horn flickered as she levitated everything from quiche slices to cookies into her muzzle, whereas Penny and Hairpin just dunked their heads into piles of haycakes and started chewing, barely coming up for air. Ivan just sat back and waited for his share of the bounty. He'd be able to roll out with his own rewards soon enough.

"Boy, I gotta tell you," said Carmine, between swallowing whole beakfuls of meat, "that I had my doubts about coming all this way, but this, this is—" Carmine was suddenly silent, probably from swallowing, thought Chip.

When she didn't continue, he gulped down his own mouthful and then prompted her with a "Well, what is it?" Laughing, he swallowed his own mouthful of food before looking up. He'd chosen a mixture of pony food and dragon food, the latter for flavouring, but he couldn't resist the gold bars. The laugh died in his throat as he realized Carmine wasn't moving. Panic set in when he realized none of his friends were moving. Heart beating rapidly, he moved cautiously up to the nearest of his companions, Carmine, and lifted a hoof. He tapped her; she didn't move. She didn't give, either; even her most insubstantial of feathers was as tough and unyielding as bedrock. Now that he thought about it, everything in the room had stopped. Even the torch flames.

"H-hello?" called Chip, in quavering tones.

"So," called a voice. It was an impressive voice. It was a deep, melodious, self-assured and above all, loud voice. "It appears I have a visitor. It must be an incredibly important visitor, to request an audience with the emperor of the realm, no?"

"N-n-no," replied Chip, ears flat against his head as he cast his gaze about for the unseen addresser. "I, you—" he backed up, fearful.

"Then—" the voice paused for a moment, "—am I to assume that my time is being encroached upon for entirely trivial reasons?"

"I, uh, didn't mean... I just..." Chip's throat was suddenly very, very dry. He cast his gaze about but spied nothing out of the ordinary... other than the total cessation of time, at least.

Suddenly, pins and needles ran up and down his spine, and then the world... changed. There was no sensation of movement and there was no flash of teleportation. Nothing quite so vulgar as mere normal translocation occurred. It was simply that in one moment, Chip stood peering fearfully around the silent dining room, and in the next, the fabric of reality itself was folded and shredded around him. The walls fell way, the ceiling boiled, the floor melted, and the already-spacious room unfolded into a curving infinity of space, populated by just two creatures – himself, and a being so large that 'big' was impossibly outclassed.

Chip had gulped as he'd looked up and up, eyes slowly refocusing on the gleaming, white mountain he found himself standing next to. There had almost been an unfortunate incident when Chip had finally realized that the ivory mountain was a claw.

From somewhere up above, where moments ago had been a ceiling and now resided the full expanse of the heavens, came the same voice, only louder. "Why, little creature, do you seek audience with me, Quetzalcoatl, bringer of the sky?"

Chip rocked back and forth from the impact of that voice. He had been prepared for ancient wyrms, baleful glares and sharp claws, but he had not been prepared for a creature so large and powerful that it could bend time and space to its will.

Quetzalcoatl's gently mocking tones echoing through the room with such force that Chip wasn't sure all his fur was still attached, let alone his wings – which were half-spread in fear as they prepared to loft him skywards. The rainbow serpent waited patiently for a few moments, mildly amused, as Chip's jowls moved up and down soundlessly, the power of speech having deserted the youngster. Eventually the titanic being continued, "Pray tell, what are you, creature?"

Chip's muzzle continued to work uselessly for a few moments more, before he finally found his voice. "Sir," he began, voice hoarse as he looked up, and up, and – the 'up' word is key here – up, "I... we... I have come—"

"I said, little one, what are you?" The immense, serpentine, feathered dragon leaned closer, much closer. It took quite a time, with the air-pressure popping around Chip as an eye bigger than he was tall, set into a head which was bigger still, snaked down to peer at him. Words like 'immense', 'humongous' and 'titanic' utterly failed to do the Emperor of Leviathania justice. His claws were the size of cities, his paws were continental. His gloriously feathered wings stretched from horizon to horizon, bathing the world in their shadow. His sinuous body twisted and turned upon itself from one end of eternity to the other, wrapping around all of creation, which the great serpent held fast in his coils. Constellations flowed through his ethereal head-crest of feathers, the light of distant suns blazed in his eyes. The weight of ages rested upon his massive shoulders, and whole worlds gleamed in his scales. All that was existed within his domain and by his will alone.

"I-I a-am Ch-Chiphoof Irontail L-Leatherback..." Chip began weakly but quickly trailed off. Small to medium-sized dragons were kin, now, and he felt utterly at home in their presence. Large dragons like the two behemoths helping to guard Tacksworn were merely frightening, and brought out the most visceral of his new instincts in defence. The emperor, though... the emperor was something else. Standing near him made Chip realise just how small he was. It made it very hard to ignore the absurdity of who he was, where he was and what he was trying to do. "My... father," wheezed Chip, suddenly finding it hard to breathe as he fell over his words in a pathetic attempt at the required draconic obeisances. "He-he-he..."

"Then, little one, if you are unsure of your own heritage, mayhaps you can tell me what your father is, if it is his business you seek to discharge."

"Dra-dragon—" Chip squeaked.

"Your father must be an odd sort of dragon, to produce one such as yourself." The voice dripped with amusement from every pore, and Chip wilted under the onslaught, wings drooping. "And who is your father?"

"Sh-Sharptooth, Lord Diamond, Clan-Chief of the D-Diamond Ex-Expanse..." Chip squeaked.

"I know of him well, little one," Quetzalcoatl stated softly, eyes fixed on Chip. He carefully sandwiched the cowering creature between one thumb and foreclaw and gently lifted Chip up by the wings until the feebly kicking youngster was at eye level. "I have also heard tell he has a son. Tell me, what do you know of this 'son'?"

The gaze that was fixed upon Chip could have melted lead, and he felt his heart sink. All of the self-assurance he had had, all of the bravado, all of the self-evident circumstances of his second becoming – it crumbled before the true essence of all that is, was, and ever would be dragon.

There are times, he would later state, when despite all one has accomplished, despite all that one is capable of, doubt enters the heart. Doubt is a powerful enemy, insidious and pervasive. It quenches the fire, it saps the strength and it quashes the will. Where there is to be truth of purpose, there can be no such thing as doubt, and there, dangling precariously before the lord of all dragons, Chip's purpose seemed naught but a distant fantasy.

"Well?" asked the god, as he waited patiently for an answer.

Chip took a deep breath. He was here; he had succeeded in attracting the attention of somebody who could, perhaps, be moved to intervene. Maybe it would be enough. He looked up, quaking fearfully, and began to tell his tale. As his words began, the godlike serpent lowered him, ever so gently, down to one enormous palm. There, legs shaking, Chip spoke of a dreadful night, so long ago, when his birth-parents had been stolen from him. He spoke of Celestia who had spirited him away and of Sharptooth who had taken him in. He spoke of diamond dogs and Akhekhu, and of the Old High King... and of his fear of war at the claws of an enemy he was not sure he was prepared to face, and of the awful mistake that had lead to this trip. And the emperor listened, silently, blinking from time to time, as the words washed over him.

Finally, when Chip was done, the youngster sighed. "A-and that's it, sir. So I've come here."

Quetzalcoatl leaned back, the inrush of air causing Chip to stagger as the creature's enormous head was lofted skywards. "You haven't," came the ominously deep voice, "answered my questions." The dragon poked a claw at Chip, almost knocking him from his perch and sending him hurtling down through uncounted fathoms towards a ground he wasn't sure existed. Continents swam, far below, and Chip gulped again, his throat a parched desert of rocks.

"I-I-I'm a..." he paused, brow wrinkling. "I'm a dragon?" he said, almost silently.

"Are you?" asked Quetzalcoatl.

Chip's brow furrowed again. "I am... aren't I? I eat rocks, and I-I breathe fire, and—"

"And dragons do such things?" The god seemed to be amused.

"They... do?" replied Chip. He furrowed his brow, thoughtfully.

"Tell me, little one; are these... displays, are they things that make you a dragon?"

"No, I..." Chip paused. "I guess not." Chip hung his head.

"Then what makes you a dragon?"

"I—"

"You could stop, you know," whispered Quetzalcoatl, leaning in and turning his head sideways so a single violet eye could focus, balefully, on the youngster. "All this... could go away."

"I... I don't..." Chip's head swam.

"You understand perfectly, little one. Give up. Hand your baubles to this Princess Celestia, or even to me. I will rein in my errant subject, and all of this will just... go away. You can go back to your life."

Chip looked down at the gargantuan paw that held him, weak in the knees. His journey, his trials, could end here? Could it be that easy? His breathing was quick and shallow, and stars spat and flared in his vision. The weight, the terrible, terrible weight, could just be lifted from his withers...!

For a moment, a long, agonizing moment, he was so very, very tempted. Then he looked up. "What's the catch?" he asked, flatly, eyes shining wetly. It had hurt to make that refusal.

"No catch, little one. Dragon business is not for the lesser races."

"That's it, isn't it?" said Chip defiantly, angrily even, stomping a hoof. "You'd have me g-go home, to... to wherever. You wouldn't care. You'd send me home, stripped of my father's gift, safe and warm like... like a pet. You'd probably give me to Sharptooth, tell him to look after me. Charge him with my well-being. You'd take Hairpin, too."

"But you would be safe," said Quetzalcoatl, gently, gaze softening kindly.

Chip breathed heavily and deeply. "I would, wouldn't I? For a while. For my entire life, perhaps. But what about... my children, if I have any. My relatives, though Celestia knows I don't know or care for most of them. In a hundred years, or a thousand... there would be no guarantees from you, would there? You don't care about things you don't own or have influence over."

Quetzalcoatl nodded solemnly. A deep sigh sent a hurricane of warm, sulfur-laden breath streaming past, redolent with regret and sadness. "I am emperor of dragons, little one. The affairs of other races are not of my concern, not without a contract to bind it. It is the way it must be."

Chip hung his head, deep in thought. "That's what dragons do, isn't it? That's how they think."

"Indeed," replied the emperor, the faintest hint of a smile gracing his fanged muzzle.

"You offer me... short-term security, at the expense of long-term gain..." Chip began pacing, fighting to settle his wings as they reacted to his agitated state, half-tripping over them in his hurried circuit. "If I am a dragon, I should not take such an offer."

"Oh?"

"I am... not a pet. I do not wish to be a pet. I will not trade... I won't stop being a dragon, just because it's easier! I don't... I don't look down on those who do, but given the choice..." Chip looked up. Quetzalcoatl blinked, solemnly, and nodded. "Given the choice, I will see this task through to the end."

"So I ask you again, little one," said Quetzalcoatl, smiling, "what are you?"

Chip stood proudly, if still a little unsure. "I am a dragon. A-and I don't need to prove that to you or to anyone else!"

Quetzalcoatl shook his great head and laughed a deep and great rumbling belly-laugh that shook the foundations of the realm. "There is one person you must convince, little lordling." The dragon placed the enormous tip of one claw ever so gently against Chip's breastplate. "And that is yourself. Doubt, little one, is a powerful enemy. Other dragons smell dragon on you, but it could be merely that you live with your father. Other creatures do your bidding when you utter strange words at them, or they at you, but perhaps they are just mistaken, no? Even I, great Quetzalcoatl, may just be playing with you, as dragons are wont to do, hmm? No, you must prove it to yourself that you have what it truly takes to be a dragon."

Slowly, Chip nodded.

"Therefore, in accordance with the noble draconic code, you will undertake a sacred quest for me, the emperor of dragons – your emperor. It is fiendishly difficult, and only a true dragon could hope to be victorious. Should you fail, you will be stripped of your draconic titles and revealed for all the realms to see as naught but a charlatan and pretender. But, should you prevail, you will have affirmed your faith in your true birthright, such that none may doubt you—"

"B-but," interrupted Chip, "w-we have to... we don't have time, we—"

"—You will find for me," Quetzalcoatl continued, ignoring Chip's protests, "the crown jewels of the Ancient High King of the Diamond Dog Nation."

Chip's muzzle almost hit the ground, albeit that the ground in whatever nether-realm he currently inhabited was seemingly tens of thousands of furlongs straight down.

"I do not need them, you understand," Quetzalcoatl idly waved a paw to show his disdain. Chip ducked, though stars in the night sky would have had far more to worry about than he. "I am not interested in possessing them. Once you have found them, you may keep them, for all I care. You are a dragon. What you can claim and hold is yours by right. All I demand of you, would-be subject of my realm, is that you find them."

"I... I will, sir, your emperor-ship," replied Chip, heart thudding in his chest. It was hard to believe, but it made perfect sense. It was all a game, the same game Akhekhu was playing with him, only he had become another player's piece.

"To help you on your way, young dragon-in-training, I give you a gift. A gift that I believe you have been searching for. Thousands of your years ago, the first and last High King of the diamond dogs, Pug the Beneficent, forged a staff. Upon this staff was written the history of his people, detailing a mighty journey from his own world, a realm lost in the mists of time, to one that I believe you are familiar with – Equestria."

"I... know," whispered Chip, lamely, as the blood sang in his ears.

"The staff was constructed of three pieces, and the tale of their journey and eventual triumphs was woven into the staff itself. Inscribed by magics long since lost to its people, it also speaks of the final resting place of this great king, and mayhaps it will also lead you to your prize."

Chip gasped, a strangled cry of barely-believed hope escaping his muzzle as a ball of light took shape before him. He all but galloped towards it, disbelieving, yet yearning for what he hoped to be true.

"I give you now the first piece. It will lead you and your companions to the second, and that in turn to the third. Take it, young one, and begin your quest – or refuse it, and leave in disgrace."

There was a bright flash of light, and the ball solidified into a grisly trophy. It was made of two skulls, one mounted on top of the other, as if the upper were devouring the lower. One was a pony, the other... was a diamond dog. He reached for it, hesitantly, then stopped. A frown marred Chip's features for a moment, then he gazed upwards into the great dragon's face. "If Akhekhu had come first, would you have given her this?"

"I would," Quetzalcoatl replied nonchalantly.

"And... what would it have cost her?"

"The price, youngling, would have been equally high. For all things have their price. For you, it would mean the end of your journey into the world of dragons. For her, it may have been enough to stop her machinations. Are you willing to take that chance? Because believe me, little one, the thought that you – the last surviving son of the Irontail family, dead by her long claw, the scion of one draconic clan and the lord by right of conquest of another – could pick up her prize and, as is her way, seek vengeance upon her with it... such a thought would chill her to her very bones."

Chip shivered, but the words sent his thoughts reeling. To think that he could possibly strike fear into the heart of one such as Akhekhu... it lit a fire in his gut. He would make good on that threat, he decided. She would pay, because he was a dragon. It was how it must be.

"I see you realize, young one, where your hoofsteps lead," stated Quetzalcoatl in deep, solemn tones.

"M-my lord," said Chip, "I-I am honoured—" he shivered, despite himself.

"Save your words, little one," said Quetzalcoatl gently, "I see into your heart as easily as I see into the heart of all things. Ritual is for those without foresight. I have all of time at my command, but you – you are as mortal as the rest of my children." The dragon was silent for a moment, then, watching as the youngster trotted around the macabre device. Quetzalcoatl rumbled contemplatively, then gestured with a claw the size of a world, sending the head-piece floating towards Chip. It hung before him, spinning gently in the air. "It will lead you true, if you ask it. Ruff will know what to do; tell him it is of the stone, and that the stone remembers."

Chip looked from the artifact, to the emperor, and back again. His brow furrowed. "It remembers what?"

"Stone," rumbled the emperor, "has a memory almost as long as my own. It remembers when it was young and full of fire. The staff is imbued with the memory of stone. It remembers when it was forged and when it was wielded. It yearns to be whole again, as all things do in their heart of hearts."

"Ruff w-will know what to do," stammered Chip, nodding. "I see."

"I'm not sure you do, yet, but you will." The dragon leaned closer again, and for a moment the great beast simply regarded Chip silently. Finally, he spoke. "Would you like to see?" he asked, simply.

"W-would I l-like to s-see what?" mumbled Chip, ears flicking up curiously.

"Would you like to see... what I see?" The emperors voice was husky and conspiratorial.

Chip gulped. "O-oka—"

A claw the size of Canterlot descended upon him and, ever so gently, touched his forehead.

♠♣♥

Author's Note:

You know how I'm always berating myself for not letting my editors actually, you know, edit? Well, this time... I did. And it's fabulous. And you can thank Caliaponia, Nyerguds, q97randomguy, maskedferret and Jake the Army Guy for slogging through this half, and in some places not only schooling me about commas (looking at you, q97randomguy) , but finding that better way of describing things (maskedferret gets an extra dook there too).

Additionally, I also want to thank the rest of the editors: EricKilla, Lazygamer313, AntiquatedAnnomaly - for helping too. It's hard to keep track because I close comments when they get too numerous (boy do they get numerous!), but I don't want to miss anyone out.

...I really wish I knew how to thank you guys and gals properly.