The crescent moon hung high in the sky as Twilight Sparkle walked her path home. Multiple brilliant stars dotted the heavens, with only the occasional cloud passing by, carried by the wind. A gentle breeze blew in the night, giving the evening a cool temperature. It was a perfect evening and the studious unicorn moved without rushing, enjoying the moment of peace and tranquility. Her saddlebags slipped a little, threatening to fall off her back. The unicorn readjusted the belt and tightened the bags in place.
The afternoon with Rarity at the spa was one she really needed. After helping Applejack tend the fields, her body was spent and her mind exhausted. Not being a pony of great physical strength, Twilight had helped her friend the only way she could: magic. Which is part of the reason why she was so tired. However, the main cause of her mental weariness wasn’t the overuse of magical abilities, but rather...
Spike... , thought the mare to herself. The young baby dragon she dubbed ‘foster brother’ had been constantly on her mind as of late. With good reason; after all, in the past twenty-four hours he had worked himself to the bone, nearly been crushed by a giant tree, dislocated his shoulder, repositioned the mentioned joint, fell down the stairs and had all of his hopes in love smashed to pieces.
“By me, to top it all...,” whispered the lavender unicorn. She felt a twist in her gut. It did not please her to approach the subject, but she could not help herself. She wasn’t as thick as Spike thought her to be. She noticed the signs. They were all over the place: the hunched back, the downed look, the dragged feet. Her foster brother was depressed and it was her fault.
But he needed to be warned. I was doing this for his sake. It’s for the best... right? wondered Twilight. Unfortunately, no matter what argument she used, nothing could shake away the feeling that she had been the one to deal the fatal blow to the baby dragon’s heart. The one to crumble all of his hopes was her and nopony else.
“Positive thinking, Twilight. He’s a big boy, he’ll get over it... I think,” she tried to convince herself, to no avail.
This is getting me nowhere. It’s unproductive thinking, she thought. The mare undid the star-shaped clasp of her left saddlebag and levitated a heavy file in front of her. The document was filled with pages and pages of scrolls and pictures, some of them retrieved from extremely old sources. On the cover, ‘Spike’ was spelled in a neat hoofwriting. She opened the document and began to read it for the umpteenth time.
There’s got to be something here, something I missed, she thought. She knew the contents of that document inside and out. If asked, she could rewrite the whole thing, pictures included. So why was she trying so hard to find an answer from a source she had already spent countless hours studying?
As if answering her question, the face of a white unicorn with a dazzling purple mane emerged on her mind.
The number of times she and Rarity had ever talked about stallions, colts and love affairs was so little it only amounted to a single digit, and a low number at that. So, why did her friend bring up the subject all of a sudden? The unusual timing of the conversation was definitely odd, but it wasn’t what really bugged Twilight. What was it?
Kind, gentle, funny, caring. Good with house chores, that’s very important. A good cook wouldn’t hurt either. Trustworthy and romantic. Somepony ready to be there for me at the drop of a hat, her friend’s description resonated in her head. That was Spike alright, but Rarity didn’t seem to notice it. The resemblance was so great, Twilight couldn’t help but mention it, which caused the conversation to lead to that situation. The laughter.
It was her usual laughter, but something was off. The sound was perfectly normal, but her smile wasn’t the same. It had too many teeth showing. Rarity is a unicorn of poise and grace and as such, her smile is very graceful and ladylike. But that one had poker face written all over it.
I’m overthinking this... we were in that bath for so long, the steam must’ve gotten to my head. But what about the stutter? Twilight was never one to hold back on an argument, so at the time she pointed all of Spike’s qualities, the same ones Rarity had used to depict her dream stallion. And as a reaction to her words, her friend began to stutter and blush.
If I didn’t know Rarity, I could have sworn she was... embarassed. Could that be it? What really bothered her was the fact Rarity had blushed when talking about Spike? It had to be, it was the only thing that made sense. This shed new light on the whole ‘Spike and Rarity’ issue. She needed more data, she needed her books. The unicorn mare increased her pace until she reached a light trotting speed. Already she could see the massive tree that was her home and the town’s library.
That’s funny, the lights are off. Did Spike go to sleep already?
Twilight quickly reached the front of her house and was walking towards the door when she noticed yet another peculiar thing: a basket on her ‘welcome’ mat. Curious, she approached the object.
“How weird... this is the basket I gave Spike to use on his shopping duty. What is it doing here?” she wondered as she examined its contents. It was filled with the items she had asked the baby dragon to buy that day, not a single one missing. She noticed a small piece of parchment poking out of one of the bags. She levitated the parchment and instantly recognized Spike’s quick and clean handwriting, a result of years of taking her messages.
Twilight,
I’m not really sure how to do this. Guess I’ll just say what I gotta say and be done with it.
I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday. You’re right. There’s no way I could ever be with her. It really hurts to admit it, but you were right all along. But worst of all, you made me see something I never noticed before: the way I am now I’ll never be happy in my love life. Just think about it: I was raised by you, a unicorn. I’m always surrounded by ponies. It’s only natural I’d have a crush on one. And it’s only going to get worse down the road. The way things are going, even if I forget about her, I’ll probably fall for some other mare, and where will that get me? Back to square one.
You’ve always been there for me. You’ve done all sorts of things to help me find my happiness. That’s why I’m doing this.
I’ve found a way outta this mess and I’m gonna take it. I can’t tell you what I’m gonna do, where I’m going or who is helping me, but I won’t be coming back. And don’t even try to follow me. By the time you read this, I’ll probably be done with it and I’ll never come back to Ponyville again.
But I can tell you this: I’m not truly gone for good and I’ll be closer than you think. I’m sorry for doing this without telling you, but you would’ve tried to stop me. Remember: I love you, big sis.
Goodbye,
Spike.
Halfway through the letter, Twilight had already fallen on her haunches. The rest of the message only served to remove the color from her face.
She reread the letter one more time. Quite a funny prank, Spike!
And a second time. It’s not so funny now.
A third time, to be certain. He... he can’t be serious... no way!
A fourth time. I... he... what?!
As many times as she read, she could not bring herself to acknowledge the truth of the situation. After the tenth reading, however, the cruel, cold reality fell on her, crushing her heart with a weight unrivaled by any other.
“Spike is... gone?”
For the first time in her entire life, Twilight Sparkle was at a complete loss of what to do. When she tried to think of her next move, her mind drew a blank. There was no plan to follow, no list to check, no instruction to execute. She had absolutely no idea of what to do. The unicorn fell to the ground and wrapped her forehooves around her shoulders, curling into a tiny, lavender ball. Her body shivered on her doorstep and her eyes were open wide in shock. Her lips trembled as she mumbled to herself
“Keep calm... keep calm...”
Go on, let it out, said a sweet voice in the back of her mind.
“I can’t... it’s not like me...” she whispered to herself.
It’s alright to do it once in awhile, you know? continued the voice.
“But it’s late... I would be bothering... everypony...” she felt her voice scratching her throat, as if simply talking would cause her to meltdown.
They’ll understand... just this once, let it out, hummed the seductive voice. Twilight Sparkle shook violently and widened her eyes to their limit, her violet eyes dilated as much as ponyly possible.
“Spi...Spike... SPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE!!!!” she bawled, her cry travelling across the peaceful town, as the tears fell and sadness consumed her. Lights from the houses began lighting up and ponies ran out the door to find the source of the sudden disturbance. The lavender unicorn continued crying out loud trying to wipe the tears away, only to have new ones pouring from her eyes. Twilight hugged the note against her chest like the most precious gem in the universe. That was his last message, their last connection. She started to whisper his name to herself. Maybe if she tried hard enough, if she wished for it with every single fiber in her body, he would come back. He would appear in front of her and crack a joke about how much of a mess she is. She could already hear it.
But no matter what she did, she knew it would never work. Spike would not return.
She felt a pair of hooves grabbing her and turning her body on the floor. Twilight’s blurry gaze met with the face of an orange pony, her green eyes filled with concern. Her lips moved up and down, but Twilight couldn’t understand a word she was saying. The whole world around her was completely quiet. Nothing mattered anymore. Her heart was filled with sorrow and her mind could only think of her foster brother. His voice, his face, his scales, his laugh. Everything else that was not related to Spike wasn’t important. And every bit of memory increased the flow of her tears, a single thought overpowering her senses.
Spike was gone. And there was nothing she could do about it. She could only cry.
Cry until she could not produce a single tear. Cry until her hide was soaked. Cry until her mind gave away and slipped into naught. But most importantly, cry, because that was the only thing she could think of doing.
“Just... a little... more...,” said Spike under his heavy breathing. Why did this guy have to choose somewhere so out of town to set up camp?
The young dragon climbed the tall hill where a orange illumination could be seen shining on the top. Because of his short legs, and the fact that he was quite sedentary, the exercise proved itself to be an arduous task. Fortunately he was carrying no extra weight, but walking up the hill was still a workout.
After a few more minutes of heavy breathing, burning muscles and the occasional swearing, Spike finally reached the summit of the hill and, consequently, his final destination: Argent Prose’s camp.
The camp was a humble site: a tent, a campfire and some peculiar hoofcrafted tools set on a cloth that laid on the ground. The barrack was a dark, lime green, neatly arranged on the hill with a campfire burning a few hooflengths in front of it. Placed above the flames, a small cauldron boiled in the heat, a sweet fragrance flowing out of it and dominating the air of the night.Spike looked at the tools. There were a variation of wooden cups, bowls, spoons, forks and a few bottles that contained what appeared to be some spices. However, some of the instruments were completely alien to the baby dragon. These strange tools varied in size, shape and material and were, in all, simply odd.
This has gotta be the place. So... where is he?
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t young Spike,” said a husky voice from behind the baby dragon. He turned around quickly and found a pair of shining grey eyes staring at him. Argent Prose stared at him, “What? No scream?”
“Not this time,” replied Spike in a very serious tone. Argent raised an eyebrow as he kept looking at the violet dragon’s straight face.
“Already?” he said, walking past the dragonling.
“You bet.”
Argent waited a few seconds before turning around and looking at the dragonling. His grey eyes were shimmering under the pale moonlight and his lips formed what seemed to be the beginning of a grin. This dude is can be seriously creepy sometimes... Spike thought, a shiver going through his spine.
“As you wish, young Spike,” said Argent with a bow. He pointed a hoof towards a patch of grass clear of any items. “If you could please stand over there, we can begin.”
Spike walked towards the appointed area. As he passed Argent, Spike noticed something from the corner of his eye. The scarred unicorn seemed to be grinning, his white teeth forming a victory smile. The dragonling felt a cold draft dancing along his back, like the touch of a cold, bony finger. Tonight is... really cold, right? thought Spike to himself. He had come that far, there was no way he would back down because of some stupid shiver, probably caused by the low temperature in the environment.
When he was set on his place, Spike turned to look at Argent. The scarred unicorn looked at him from a few hooves away, his massive body outlined by the light of the campfire behind him. He cast a shadow along the ground and his eyes glowed menacingly and, for the first time since he had arrived to his decision, Spike thought that maybe this was a bad idea.
“If you have no objections, young Spike, we shall begin at once.”
“Ri-right then. What do I do?”
Argent leaned down his head and gave Spike a piercing glare with his grey eyes. He smiled wickedly as he spoke: “Try not to scream too much...”
“What?” asked the young dragon. However, his question fell on deaf ears, as Argent Prose pointed his horn towards the dragonling’s tiny body and shot a dark blue ray. The magical beam crackled through the air with its nefarious light glowing in the dark night. Spike felt the full impact of the spell. For a split second, nothing seemed to happen, but then...
“GAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!” yelled Spike, his body shaking with the agony running through every inch of his being. Still engulfed in the light of Argent’s spell, he felt as if thousand of hands were grabbing him by his limbs and pulling him in all directions, in the hopes of tearing him apart. Spike fell on the ground and started convulsing in pain, his tiny shape dancing with the cracking sound of the spell. Unconsciously, his claws dug the earth beneath him, ripping blades of grass and crushing them in his clenched fists. He looked at his hand and horror spread throughout his face.
His fingers were being crushed. They bent in a unusual way, one that was clearly not natural and could only mean something terribly painful was happening to his hand. To add to his already terrified state was the fact they did not stay still. They shifted their angle very quickly, snapping every time they turned. The sound of bones breaking joined with the cracks and thunders of Argent’s beam. Spike opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t, the words turned into cries of desperation and terror. The pain was unbearable. It made relocating his shoulder seem like a walk in the park under the bright sun. His fingers kept bending and shaking and shrinking...
Shrinking? he thought in complete panic.
Spike noticed that his fingers were half their usual length. Not as if they were cut, but rather as if they were crushed. They kept on crushing more and more, until they completely disappeared. Then, there was his nose. His nostrils were grabbed by some invisible force and pulled. The ‘touch’ was fiery and it burned his face in a way that even the lava pool could not. It stretched his muzzle and made his eyes water in pain. His whole body was being stretched as well, as if a sadistic puppeteer was pulling him by the strings just to see him suffer. He screamed even more, the agony already settling in as a permanent resident.
What’s going on with me?! Oh, Celestia, it hurts too much! I can’t take it anymore! Make. It.
“STOOOOOOOP!!!!” Spike cried out the last word on his mind, his head raised towards the moon. Just as he finished his yelling, the cracking symphony from the spell halted. As silence fell over the camping site, Spike followed suit and fell as well, his mind going completely blank.
Spike opened his eyes and found himself in a dark room, with the only source of illumination coming down from a lamp on the ceiling. It shone down a cone of cold white light that surrounded the dragonling. Suddenly, the click of a switch was heard somewhere in the distance and a new source of light appeared. It was a warm, orange light that shone down on a white pony with a beautiful blue dress. The mare wore a tiara adorned with diamonds and shoes of gold and sapphire. Her horn pointed out of her forehead and was surrounded by the purple coloration of a beautifully stylized mane. The mare gracefully turned around and looked in Spike’s direction. The baby dragon felt his heart pound with expectation. He raised his hand and started waving excitedly at her. The white unicorn glanced back and waved her hoof in return. Spike waved with reinvigorated fervor, when he heard a new click from behind him. He turned around just in time to see a slight green cone of light shining down on a pony.
The mysterious pony was a violet unicorn stallion with a green mane. His manestyle covered his face, but Spike could see a smile coming from his lips. The dashing stallion also waved his hoof towards the beautiful mare behind Spike. The baby dragon turned around to look at her and back at the stallion. She didn’t notice him. She only had eyes for that handsome violet unicorn. The strange pony started walking towards Spike, his hooves causing a clopping sound to echo around the room. When he approached the dragonling, he stopped beside him. Time seemed to simply halt as the two stared at each other. Spike noticed that he could see his eyes for the first time. They were green as emeralds and they were looking down on him. The stallion’s smile faded and turned into an expression of discontent. He moved his lips up and down, but no sound came from them. However, Spike understood what he meant.
You are not worthy of her.
The mysterious pony resumed his walk and time flowed once more. He approached the mare and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. She leaned on his neck, nuzzling and smiling happily. Spike felt his heart break and shatter, his eyes filled with tears. He tried to walk towards her, but felt a weight on his feet. He looked down and saw that the floor had gone from its trustworthy solidness to a more liquid form, causing his tiny form to sink. Desperate, the baby dragon started to pull himself from the quicksand, but found it even harder to move. He kept on sinking and trying to move towards the mare. The green light around the violet stallion became more saturated and cleared as the mysterious pony looked at the dragonling and gave him a smug smile. Spike raised his hands, trying to reach his beloved white unicorn.
His vision was engulfed by the quicksand and his mind slipped away into naught.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Howdy, mates! First off, the usual thank you section. A brohoof to my editors and proofreaders, Cheesesauce, TheWattsMan and the newcomers, Aburi Alberto and Frederick the Saiyan. Your grammar nazi ways and advice are priceless and are what makes this story truly shine.
The readers! Man, is this story growing or what? Okay, it might not be anything like Chickendagger’s (or is it Ravendagger now?) Of Challenges and Kisses, but hey, we reached the 1000 count! And I forgot to make a fuss about it! Silly, silly Nagagon.
So, about this chapter. First up, Twilight’s scene. This one was a challenge to write. When I wrote the draft, Cheesesauce and the gang were all saying I should focus 100% on it to make it shine. “It’s pure gold”, they said. So, I went all out. I wanted you to cry. I wanted you, the reader, to feel Twilight’s sorrow, her grief, but most importantly, I wanted you to feel her helplessness. How a incredibly organized and collected pony like Twilight Sparkle could simply lose it in a situation like this. If you shed even the smallest of tears, bottle it up and send it to me. They make great coffee, better than regular tap water.
And what about Argent? Do you like him? Do you hate him? Do you fear him? Or do you simply have no idea what’s he playing at?
Lastly, Spike’s dream. It was a spur of the moment thing that I wanted to write and man, was it a good idea to follow that hunch. It was great to write that last scene and I’m going to do it even MOAR! So here’s a challenge to all of you psychos-- I mean, psychiatrists wannabes out there:
Analyze Spike’s dream. Go nuts, answer in the comments. I’ll give a moustache Spike for every correct answer and a trollestia for every wrong answer. I foresee a great spamming of trollestia emoticons.