//------------------------------//
// Pt.1 - Chapter 29 
// Story: The Starlight Broadcast 
// by ponyfhtagn 
//------------------------------//

Red dawn was on the horizon when Spike finally made it back to his hotel room. He collapsed down on the floor and let his green and purple colt disguise disappear. Right now he wanted nothing to do what that ability. He had given in to the armband during his escape and it scared him how easy it had been.
Spike couldn’t have let the guards see the green and purple colt because Shining Armor would recognise him from the grill house. That would implicate Rarity in the situation. Spike couldn’t do that to her. Not after everything she’d worked for.
He couldn’t use the Scootaloo disguise, either. What if somepony recognised her from Spike’s trip to the Canterlot Royal Hospital? He could get Fluttershy or Rainbow Dash into trouble. And for obvious reasons he couldn’t use the Caramel disguise, nor the likeness of any other pony he knew.
So Spike had done an unthinkable thing.
He had conjured an image he knew all too well: the image of a changeling. And in doing so he had felt something unlock in the armband’s potential. It was one of those whispered-of shapes the band had been just aching to try. Something that came naturally; and Spike had taken to it all too easily.
Worse still it had not been like any of his other disguises. He was… bigger. Bigger than a little foal or baby dragon. Spike was sure he had been the size of a normal changeling drone, but he had no idea where all the extra mass had come from. This was no ordinary illusion—he was running on taller legs. Legs that had holes in them! All he knew was that when he later changed back it was not as smooth as usual, but instead it had felt like his skin was crawling over his body—like ants—crawling and flowing back to the source of the power—the band on his left arm.
But it had been necessary for his escape. And Spike consoled himself with the hope that maybe now Equestria would be watchful for other such creatures in the future. He had to believe that some good could come from what he had done.
The guards had pulled back from him in alarm when they came upon him in the palace halls. He had hissed, despite himself, and bared his changeling fangs. In the split-second of their shock he had managed to scurry away from capture. His familiarity with Canterlot palace and the dark shell of his changeling form had allowed Spike to blend in and escape confrontation for a time.
But then when the fire alarm cut off he knew more guards would be after him soon. Possibly he was helping draw them away from Twilight. Possibly this was not a good thing, though. Then Spike found an exterior window and had cut loose with a blast of his green dragon fire. The flames licked over the glass and it blackened but did not melt. He kicked at it with his forelimbs but it did not shatter. Magical protection, of course. It was Celestia’s palace after all.
But the fire caught the drapes and soon the alarms were going off again. Spike bolted down another hall and dodged between the legs of two guards, who were thankfully pegasi and therefore not able to attack him with spells. He had surprise on his side and was gone again before they had registered his appearance. Then at last when he had spotted a high open window he instinctively leapt for it and buzzed his little changeling wings without thinking, sailing through the aperture to crash-land on the grass outside.
Even now, lying on the worn hotel carpet, Spike could not be sure if he had conjured an impressive leap, or if he had somehow managed to fly. That would be impossible, of course. He did not have real wings. Even if he could make those changeling wings work he didn’t have the right magic to—
Spike’s eyes widened. Or did he? Did he have the right magic for flight? He was not a pegasus, no, but he was a dragon. Even without dragon wings was it possible that he still held the potential for flight, as other dragons did? Spike clutched at his head and groaned. There were so many things about his life that he had never questioned before now. Like, why was his fire green? The other dragons Spike had met all had orange fire. And how was he able to send letters using his fire? Magic, yes, but it just wasn’t normal. Why did nopony ever talk about it?
He shut his eyes and tried not to dwell on these problems. Instead his memories reverted back to his escape from a few hours ago.
Once Spike had gotten outside and seen the sky flickering he realised the spell surrounded the palace was falling apart, though he did not know why. As the last of those protective energies failed Spike reached the walls and slipped easily between the bars of the nearest gate.
He had escaped. And so had Twilight. But this was not how Spike had wanted it.
He had gone to the palace looking for Twilight, thinking that maybe she was just hurt or scared and that he would help her. Even if she had misstepped and gotten herself into trouble Spike had planned to be there to help her. Whatever she needed, as long as he could see her again and see her happy.
Instead he had ruined everything.
And Twilight… Twilight was not herself at all. She had been angry and paranoid and afraid of him. Maybe he had been too bold. She didn’t know him, after all. Maybe her unicorn magic had sensed his armband. But that had never happened to him before. Well… except possibly with that stallion at the scrap yard. Had Spike merely spooked Twilight and that was why she had run away from him?
But he felt there was more. She had been tied to her bed with magic locks. The guard outside her room had been given orders to leave if she started screaming. Maybe to fetch help. It all struck Spike as a little… Well, he hated to admit it but… a little mad. Twilight had certainly acted mad. Those wizards said she was mad.
Spike didn’t like it. It made him sick. He drew his tail up to his chest and hugged it; curling in around himself to cry. And what of those strange golden runes he had seen glowing on her horn? Spike had no idea what that was about. It didn’t seem to stop her from doing magic. Did it make her more powerful? Was it something she had done to herself? Nothing made sense… Spike shuddered to think that this was normally the part where he would ask Twilight for answers—or she would ask him to find the right book for her. Instead he had nothing.
Spike let out a sob and the armband’s black scar tissue crawled greedily all up and down his left arm. He scrunched up his face as more tears came and again the armband’s infection seemed to take delight in his sadness. Spike hadn’t said anything to Rarity but he had slowly come to realise, if not fully admit, the reason how the armband was getting stronger. He could not explain how it had become such a mess, but he strongly suspected he knew how it was feeding.
Love. The artefact was made from a changeling, after all. In these past few weeks Spike had introduced the thing to some pretty intense emotional situations—meeting all his friends again, and the arguments he had gotten into with Rarity on occasion. Heart-ache, regret, desire—to love somepony even if they don’t remember you; even if they betray you; even if you don’t feel worthy of love in return. It was all the same to the armband. Love wasn't pure. Love was a mess, and the band just lapped it all up, growing stronger and stranger.
It was a horrible sight now—a mess of veins—like it was trying to grow or to become something, yet it didn’t know what shape it was meant to be. Spike’s fancy conjured the idea of a butterfly spilling half-formed from its nurturing cacoon—a thing that existed only by mistake and transgression. His arm did not feel numb, nor foreign, nor traitorous. It just felt very alive. Alive the way a maggot infested apple is alive.
Spike let out another sob because now the potion was gone, too. Twilight had burned her way free of the palace and she was out there in the world, alone. Spike had looked for her as soon as he was out in the streets again. He had searched and searched until morning drew near and the streets filled with more guards than he could safely avoid, even in his go-to colt disguise.
He had visited every place in Canterlot that Twilight might try to hide. Everywhere except her home—where her parents would no doubt find her—and the school—which was locked so she could not enter. It occurred to him as his search wore out that maybe Twilight would try to get back into the palace. But this was no good. The shield spell had gone back up around the walls, keeping Spike out and probably Twilight too. There was nowhere else to look and he had found no trace of her anywhere. Only the dark cloak lying in the street outside the palace walls.
Now Spike reached into his backpack and drew out the garment.
It was a little dirty and a little tattered at the edges. There were a few sizzled holes in the hem, probably from a stray potion splash. Twilight had probably cast the thing off in her escape. It was all he had left of her, in a way. Spike held the cloak in his claws, against his chest, and shut his eyes.
Had she vanished? Or had she been captured again?
And which scenario was better…?
Somepony from the hotel staff knocked on the door after an hour and told Spike he had to leave the room. Spike managed to barter another day of use by trading over his watch, and so they left him in peace and darkness once more. Spike must have drifted off at some point and when he woke he found the sun was almost at its highest point. He was stiff and sore, and aching from the reality of it all, but he forced himself to become the go-to colt once more and went out to continue his search for Twilight.
Shining Armor was not to be found at the grill house for lunch. The smell of cooked vegetables reminded Spike that he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. But there were no more bits and no more gems. He left that street and went to the Gifted school where class was in session. Moon Dancer was already inside so Spike wrote a quick note by scratching on a leaf with his claw, and sent it to her via dragon fire. After ten minutes of waiting he saw her exit the building, at which point he waved to her from across the path.
“Make it quick. I have to be back in class soon,” Moon Dancer said. “And I thought you and Rarity went back to Ponyville.”
“Rarity did,” Spike said. “I wanted to stay and look for Twilight.”
“So you’ve found her?” Moon Dancer presumed.
“Why do you say that?”
She frowned. “Well if you don’t have Twilight or Rarity with you then how did you  cast that spell to send me that note?”
“Uhhh…” Spike blanked.
Moon Dancer shook her head in disappointment. “Nevermind. If you don’t want to tell me then don’t bother lying. Just answer me this… Have you found Twilight?”
Spike shifted awkwardly under the pressure. “Yes and no… I found where she was but now she’s gone again.”
“You’re still leaving something out,” Moon Dancer said. “I always gave you and Rarity full information as far as my knowledge was able.”
“Alright, alright,” Spike said. “That’s fair. But keep it to yourself.”
“Since it concerns Twilight, I agree. Unless I feel she is in danger and my speaking up can help her.”
Spike sighed and rubbed at his tired eyes. “That’s just it. I don’t know what’s wrong with her. She… Something to do with that book you mentioned—”
“Warhock’s The Living Spell.”
“Yes. And the… The egg from the test. Look, I don’t know what Twilight did but it was something to do with both those things. I think she may have found the egg or stolen it. A ‘trick question’ you said. Well that’s what she said, too. Something about trick ques—”
“You’ve seen her?” Moon Dancer cut in.
“Briefly…” Spike said. “But now I… I think she’s gone again…” It almost broke him to say it. He blinked the beginnings of tears. “She wasn’t herself. She was scared and angry and she thought everpony was against her. Even her own brother. I…” The words left him.
Moon Dancer’s ears had slowly drooped while he was speaking. “She’s run away, hasn’t she?”
Spike didn’t—couldn’t answer.
Moon Dancer nodded slowly. “In the last few days that I saw her before she disappeared she had taken to muttering and ranting. She spoke often of not being powerful enough and of how she couldn’t trust anypony—especially not her family. I also heard her mention to me a plan to run away. I think that’s why she gave me her Daring Do book to keep. There was a strange finality to some of the things she did.
“I always wondered…” Moon Dancer paused at a slight shaking of breath but she composed herself quickly. “I always wondered if that’s what had happened to her. That she had run away. I had always planned to confront her but… And maybe I should have… But it’s too late now.”
Spike nodded sadly. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”
They each took a moment to rally their spirits again.
Moon Dancer lifted her ears. “Warhock’s book. I haven’t practiced with it myself but I did read something on the initial theory behind his work. The book held a spell that allowed the caster to perceive magic.”
“What does that mean?” Spike asked.
“Perceive. As in detect. To see or feel or hear magic, I think.”
Spike shuddered at a suddenly memory. How Twilight had insisted that he was not a pony, as if she had somehow seen through his disguise. Had she seen him for what he really was, as Pinkie Pie had done? Was that why Twilight attacked him? Did she… fear him? Or mistrust him because he was a dragon? The only pony he had ever known who didn’t stare or comment or flinch away from him; who never made him feel uncomfortable and out-of-place in a world of ponies—and now…
“What does that mean?” Spike repeated, almost desperately.
“Well it can have side effects,” Moon Dancer said. “To see magic like that is to allow raw magic into yourself—coursing through your mind with little to no protection. You see things that the senses have trouble interpreting. That’s why Warhock’s book was not much of a success. His methods lead to headaches, hallucinations, delusions—” She hesitated. “…and in rare cases… insanity.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Warhock’s methods were mentioned in another book I read on Wizards We’ve Tried to Forget. It covers unicorns from the benign, such as Warhock, right through to the more unstable, such as Thorhoof, who originally wrote simple history books but later disappeared—”
“Wait, wait,” Spike broke in. “You think Twilight used this magic-seeing spell too much and it made her… unstable?”
“Possibly,” Moon Dancer said with reluctance. “But in such a sort amount of time... It doesn’t quite make sense. Unless she looked at something… disturbing.”
Spike was hesitant to enquire further. “Such as…?”
Moon Dancer gave a cautious glance back at the Gifted school. “Considering what you’ve told me? Maybe a dragon egg. I’m sure they keep them somewhere in the school. Twilight was always resourceful.”
Spike was beginning to feel a little unstable himself at this point. Somehow is the short few weeks between the Starburst Even and his arrival in Canterlot, Twilight had gone down a path of lies, stealing, betrayal and insanity.
Spike began to shake. “It’s all my fault…” he whispered. “I wasn’t here. It didn’t happen right. I should have checked on her first, but I didn’t want to come here. Because I was afraid of my own problems. But I didn’t think about what might happen to her. She was always so smart and capable I thought—” He drew a shaky breath. “I thought she would be fine. I didn’t think about how she can get sometimes, when she’s stressed about—about being perfect.
“She doesn’t know when to stop sometimes. I should have thought about that. I should have come back sooner and helped her, or stopped her, or just stopped all this before it even began!” he sobbed. “Or maybe I should just never have come here. Then she’d still be somewhere safe. Maybe she would have gotten better. At least she wouldn’t be… be…” Spike’s legs folded under him and he sagged to the ground. “I don’t even know where she is…”
Moon Dancer reached out and nervously stroked his mane. “I was the pony who should have done something.”
“No, this is my fault…” Spike insisted. “If it wasn’t for that dragon egg in the first place she—” He took a long breath and stopped talking.
Moon Dancer watched him for a moment. Then she looked back at the school. “I should get back to class now.” She turned to Spike again. “Don’t worry. I’m sure somepony will find he, and we’ll see her again and she’ll be alright.”
“None of it is alright…” Spike whispered bitterly. “It’s broken. It’s all wrong. And I can’t fix it until…” He sighed and stood up. “I don’t know when. Years. Or maybe that’s broken, too. Maybe Twilight’s never coming back for me.”
Moon Dancer shook her head slowly. “I still don’t understand. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I don’t think so…” Spike said. “Nopony is powerful enough to—” He stopped and blinked. He wiped tears from his face and frowned. “If I had that spell again I could…”
Moon Dancer studied his reaction. “What spell?”
“A spell…” Spike muttered. “It doesn’t exist yet, but maybe…” He looked at the school and then back at Moon Dancer. “I have to go.”
“Okay…” Moon Dancer said. “Will I see you soon? Maybe when Rarity comes back?”
“I don’t think so,” Spike said. “Tell Rarity she’ll be alright. She’s got her new life now. But I don’t think there’s a place for me here anymore.” He looked up at the sky. “I have to fix this myself, now. And she can’t follow me where I’m going…”
“Okay…” Moon Dancer said. “Daring Do.”
Spike smiled at her. “There is one thing you can help with.”
“Yes?”
“Sunburst's village,” Spike said. “Did he ever tell you where it is?”
“Yes,” Moon Dancer said, taking parchment and quill out of her saddlebags. “He showed us while we were studying thaumaturgical applications of cartography.”
The magic she held her quill with began to change and glow brighter, and the quill danced and swirled across the page while Moon Dancer stood there with eyes closed.
“Done,” she said, turning the page towards him.
Spike blinked at the detailed map of Equestria and the clear 'X' where Sunburst's village no doubt was.
“Wow. How'd you do that?”
“The class was easy,” Moon Dancer said, slipping the map into his backpack. “I aced it.”
Spike looked at the quill she was still levitating. “Umm… There is one more thing I might need. A quill and parchment? And spare ink?”
“That's three things,” Moon Dancer said. “But I agree. You should never leave home without them.”
Moon Dancer’s horn lit up and she levitated the stationary into his backpack. Spike noticed the embroidered cutiemark symbols on her saddlebags and smiled fondly at the memory of the moment.
“Take care of Rarity,” Spike said. “She’s a good friend. I’m sure she’ll be there for you the way she was there for me. Goodbye, Moon Dancer.”
Then Spike straightened up and took off down the road again.

On the way to the hotel Spike’s rout took him past the restaurant district again and he was momentarily distracted by the smells. He followed the scent of bakes goods until he came upon his favourite donut bar. Still, no money. But there were stale donuts in the trashcan by the side access door.
Spike momentarily wondered how he had gone from room service in Manehatten to scavenging food from the garbage, and in just a few weeks, too. The weight of his loneliness truly stuck him by the time he got back to his room. Yes, the echoes of his friends were still scattered around Equestria but Spike knew it wasn’t the same. Not only were they so different, and now so misdirected, but they had no place for him in their world. He didn’t exist here. He was the thing out of place—not them.
There was not a pony in the land who knew him or would ever know him the way Twilight had. He had lost his family. He had enjoyed this place for a time but it was slowly turning rotten. He had lost sight of the true mission: the future.
Spike had to remain loyal to the Equestria he knew—with the friends and family who loved him. He had been cruelly ripped from his home and no amount of hot chocolate sleepovers was going to fix that. Things had to change. Things had to change back.
Spike sat on the bed, returned to dragon form, and took out the papers and quill that Moon Dancer had given him. He hesitated, forming the letter in his thoughts first, and then he began to write.
Dear Rarity.
From Spike.
I will not be returning to Ponyville.
Twilight is gone. I don’t know where. I don’t think she wants to be found. I don’t think I want to follow her anymore. Moon Dancer will miss her, I think. Take care of her. Friends are important, and you’re going to make so many. Never loose sight of that.
But I can’t stay here, Rarity. Not in Canterlot or Ponyville or anywhere. I have to go find somepony to fix this. I’m going to make things right. Don’t follow me, either. Stay in Canterlot and live that life you’ve always dreamed off. Make friends. Go on your own adventures where you decide what’s important. And have fun. As much as you can.
Because bad things are coming, Rarity.
I can’t leave you without telling you the rest of the story. Because this isn’t the first time I’ve seen the past change. Twilight and I saw many different futures while we fought with Starlight Glimmer. I saw monsters come to power and I need to warn somepony to try and stop that from happening again.
Then Spike wrote down the times and places that he remembered when Twilight and her friends had stood against evil and saved Equestria. He wrote about Nightmare Moon, Discord, and King Sombra. He wrote about the Elements of Harmony and what he knew of the power of friendship. He wrote of Tirek in Tartarus and he ever wrote of Queen Chrysalis.
…but I can’t tell you when she’ll strike, Spike wrote. I think it has already begun. Her spies could be anywhere by now. But I think I might have spoiled her plans, so maybe she’ll go to ground for a while. I don’t see much in my nightmares anymore. Just feelings of crawling in the dark. I can’t even be sure that any of it was real.
I’m going to write to Zecora about all of this, too, so don’t worry. This isn’t your responsibility. It’s too much to ask of you. But I won’t leave you blind and defenceless, either. Take care and watch out. Try and hold on and make the best of every day and every friend.
And even if this world does slip into chaos, it’s okay. After all of that has come to pass and every villain has left their scar upon Equestria, don’t give up. Because the Castle Map will appear in Ponyville and Twilight will come back to save us. My Twilight. Princess Twilight. And you will find happiness, in one world or another, and everything will be okay.
But I can’t stay here waiting for that day. I have to do what I can to fix this mess and I’m sorry, Rarity, but I can’t take you with me. Because I—
Spike’s pen hesitated over the page.
The armband twitched with anticipation—daring him to write the words he felt in his heart. But he wouldn’t. This was exactly why he couldn’t be around her anymore. He…
A fat drop of a black ink hit the paper. Spike smudged out the ‘because’ and wrote:
Don’t look for me. I’m already gone.
Take care.
Spike.
He rolled up the scroll and set it aside. Then he wrote to Zecora and gave her the same warnings, though much more directly this time. He didn’t mention what had happened with the potion. She would wonder, of course. Or maybe she already had him all figured out. Either way, it was no use. The armband was a part of him now and a part of any plan he hoped to accomplish. He would solider though whatever it did to him because he had to be strong now, for Twilight. For the future.
Spike rolled up the second scroll and sent it on its way. Then he picked up the letter to Rarity and held it for a moment.
“Goodbye,” he said, and touched the paper to his lips.
Dragon fire washed over the page and it spiralled out the open window.
The sun was getting low. Spike shrugged into his near-empty backpack—now his only treasure in the world. He put on his green and purple colt disguise. He left his hotel room and walked to a market stall where he traded the quill, ink and remaining parchment for a few bits. Then he went to the edge of the city and purchased a ticket for the next train to take him north.
Spike fastened the castoff cloak around his neck as he boarded the train at sundown. He had seen all six friends and none of them could do what needed to be done. But there was another who could, maybe in time. After all, she had done it before.
The train pulled out of the station, heading towards places unfamiliar. Spike took out the map Moon Dancer had drawn for him. The map with the little 'X' that suddenly seemed so important. Because it was there, Spike hoped, he would find that child who would later become the powerful and dangerous unicorn he knew as Starlight Glimmer.
And maybe she could fix what she had broken. Before it was too late.