//------------------------------// // Conversation 39: Shining Armor // Story: Aporia // by Oliver //------------------------------// “I am insulted, that even someone as weak-minded as an equine would dare to try the same magic on me a second time and expect it to work,” the centaur said so loudly, that I heard him at least a quarter mile away. If there was ever a particular moment when everything with this whole expedition went wrong, that was it, writ large across the darkness of the night in the blue glow of changeling eyes. We have not even had enough time to finish evacuating the crystal ponies, let alone set up an effective formation to repel the changelings. All over the city, red flares lit up, as squads came into contact with the enemy and started calling for air support. I immediately stopped everything I was doing – not that I was useful for much beyond boosting morale at this point – and galloped towards the archway as fast as I could, ignoring the swarm swooping down around me. I wasn’t sure what exactly was I planning to actually do, once I got there, but that didn’t matter anymore. Anything. Distract him. Sing him a lullaby. Cast a flash spell. Poke his legs with my horn. Anything at all to give Twilight another chance. We have no magic to deal with a giant monster here, no artillery, nothing… except the Elements of Harmony. They might have failed once, but they remain our only option. Anything that gives Twilight and her friends an extra second to figure out why the first attempt failed and try again is worth it. I have a very smart sister. If there is harmony in the world, she will find the way. But if Tirek sucks the magic out of them, all is lost. Cadance stands no chance. By the time Princess Luna gets here, Tirek will be completely invincible. “Lord Tirek. And I have come to take what should have been mine long ago. Your attempts to stop me are, at best, amusing.” Damn it, I’m not going to make it in time… And then I had to skid across the ground to avoid crashing into a bubble shield, frightening off a squad of changelings that was about to try their teeth on it. Just who put this here?! As I was rearing up to go around it and continue my last ditch gallop into the cold darkness, the shield popped open, torn apart by the rapidly growing, purple something. The vanishing bubble disgorged a human like a lost afterthought and tossed her straight into my face. I caught her in my magic and immediately forgot about her, transfixed by the sight for a moment. I have never been that close to an ancient dragon before. Certainly not close enough to potentially get stepped on. “A-ha-ha-ha-ha, go get him, Spike!” The purple monster above our heads let out a roar that was loud enough to rattle the glass in nearby windows, and lunged towards Tirek, covering most of the distance between them in a single leap. His ridiculously long snakelike tail slapped across the ground, crushing several houses next to us into shiny, sharp-looking rubble, shaking the ground and very nearly causing me to lose balance. It’s a good thing we started the evacuation with the outskirts. Wait, Spike?!… “What the hay did you do to him?!” I shouted at the human. It wouldn’t take much effort to snap the fragile creature in half… “Obscure quirk of dragon biology,” she responded, a triumphant, crazy grin splashed across her face. “Reversible.” Lots of questions queued up in my head, but without hesitation, I dismissed every single one. She did exactly the sort of thing I was hoping to do myself. For exactly the same reasons, I’m sure. It took me a moment to realize that her legs are dangling in the air, and I reluctantly put her down. Everything else can wait until morning. If we ever see that morning. Spike’s first lunge brought him within striking distance of Tirek, and he slashed a claw across the black coat of the centaur’s chest. A subdued grunt of pain out of the centaur was the only tangible result. Instead of a proper gash, I just saw a shallow scratch parting the hair, which started clotting and knitting itself closed even before Spike had the time to raise the other claw. “Damn, what is he doing?!” I exclaimed. I don’t know just where centaurs keep their kidneys, hardly anypony knows, when the entire people are but a memory. But I’m not sure even striking the weaker spots will do much good, and slashing right across the ribs is a stupid move, Tirek already has way too much magic. If he were that easy to hurt, I’d have ordered a terminal velocity dive bombing, using the lances we captured from Sombra’s troops for ammunition. We would lose ponies, but we’d win. “He’s running on instinct,” Mary replied. “Dragons in the state of greed growth are barely conscious.” The centaur slammed his gigantic fist into the middle of Spike’s own chest, which pushed the dragon back and resulted in a reflexive jet of fire that singed Tirek’s nose. Undeterred, Spike pushed ahead. If I don’t do something, the boy’s going to get himself killed. I considered my options. And then I galloped ahead, leaving the human alone in the middle of a ruined street. Normally, I wouldn’t abandon a lady like this, but I’m certain she will manage. When Twilight learns something new, she occasionally gets that insatiable drive to teach it to somepony in turn, and while she still lived in Canterlot, that somepony would often turn out to be me. When the subject is sufficiently fascinating, she won’t let off until you practice it with her and achieve at least some results. A year ago that happened to gravity vector redirection spells. I’m very nearly running on fumes here, but ten minutes will have to do. I’m not sure if Spike even felt me galloping up his back, but all I worried about was that he wouldn’t suddenly decide to shake me off. It’s a long way down. I’m not sure I ever ran that fast, but as I ran, I had to get another spell ready, and that had to be done just in time, too. “Spike, DUCK!” I yelled, as I finally reached the relatively level space between his ears. Funny, you never notice them when he’s small, just a tiny opening between the scales in a tuft of green. My double-size jousting shield only survived for half a second, before shattering and falling away into Tirek’s bottomless gaping maw, but that was enough time for Spike to get his head out of the funnel, and me with it. I felt the deadly torrent of the air completely devoid of magic rush right above my head, painfully singing the very tip of my horn, and almost disrupting my gravity spell. “Now, right uppercut into his chin, like I taught you!” I yelled again. The motion of the purple arm felt painfully slow, and yet, for the gigantic size Spike was at the moment, it was ridiculously fast. He must have actually been practicing. Tirek flailed his own arms, trying to brush Spike’s arm away like an insect, he tried to dodge, but didn’t make it in time. The sharp point of the thumb’s talon collided with Tirek’s face, catching on the nose ring. As the punch threw his head all the way back, the nose gave way, leaving the slightly bloodied ring to dangle off the talon. “Grab his horns!” I shouted. “Hold his head like that!” An indistinct growl was the only verbal answer I got, but the other purple arm came up, and while the slightly dazed centaur was flailing his own, both of Spike’s claws locked firmly around the sprawling horns. It took just a moment for Tirek to regain his wits, but it was already too late – the only objects remaining for him to drain magic from would be the Moon and the scattered groups of changelings floating above us on their iridescent wings. I don’t know how big he has to get to drain the Moon itself, but it’s safe to say that moment has yet to come, or we would be beneath his notice entirely. Why aren’t the changelings trying to take me out? They can’t do much about Spike, but knocking me off to the ground would be easy even if he stood still. Is there no friendship among thieves? No time for that. Tirek’s arms were busy pawing at Spike’s body and getting dangerously close to gripping his neck. “Use your tail! Your tail is long enough to wrap him up now!” The snaking appendage whipped through the air, swatting a curious changeling away with no malice or aforethought, and bound Tirek’s arms tightly to his protruding torso. “Good job, Spike!” I breathed out. For a while, Tirek is not going anywhere, and while this pose surely is uncomfortable for Spike to maintain, it has to be magnitudes more unpleasant for Tirek. “Leave it to a race as despicable as ponies to send a lizard after me,” the centaur growled out when he finally realized that he can’t just break the hold. “What did they buy you with, dragon? Friendship? Don’t you see that you are but a pet to them?” Oh no you don’t. “His name is Spike!” I shouted. “And he is no pet, he’s my little brother!” I wouldn’t normally say something like that. It feels slightly weird, but… it’s close enough to the truth that all the subtle distinctions and legal fictions don’t matter. That seemed to have struck a nerve, because the roar Tirek let out upon hearing that felt pained, rather than just annoyed, and I realized something I originally missed. While the gigantic centaur gorged on the magic of harmony that he somehow managed to consume and the dragon prematurely grown way beyond his years have comparable size, for whatever reason, Spike has no wings. But centaurs have two extra legs. They don’t seem to be quite as flexible as ours, but since Spike’s tail is busy holding on to Tirek too… I had to readjust the gravity vector very fast, holding on for dear life, as Tirek reared, lifting Spike into the air and twirling around. “Hold fast, Spike!” I shouted, as I heard the glassy sounds of houses being crushed somewhere below. “You must keep him away from Twilight!” I saw Spike tighten the coil of his tail around Tirek and breathe a short flare out, lighting the dangling beard on fire. At least Tirek isn’t trying to cast anything. Dragon scales are notoriously magic-resistant, but they aren’t there to keep magic out of the dragon, their job is to bottle it in. Mouth and eyes are the only vulnerable spots, but one good breach in the scales, and I’m sure that Tirek can deflate Spike like a balloon, no matter what we do. “Get off me, you spineless whelp!” Tirek shouted, struggling to get free. I’ll count myself lucky if I get out of this alive, but not ending up deaf will be an outright miracle. “My brother is the bravest dragon I know,” I replied. “You’ve got a lot of nerve calling him spineless, after calling the changelings in to do your own dirty work.” “They begged for my cooperation,” Tirek retorted. “As they by all rights should!” He’s calming down, even the thrashing has stopped. We can’t have that. I’ve got to keep him enraged and distracted, while Spike still has the strength to restrain him, there’s no telling how long this “greed growth” is going to last. If Tirek figures out a way to cast a spell on us, this time will be cut short. “Well, if that’s true, then tell me something, ‘Lord’ Tirek. What are you doing this for? Why do you want everybody’s magic?” “Because it should be mine!” Tough customer. But everypony tells me I’m a good interrogator. “Suppose it should be. Suppose you can even get it. What are you going to do, once you have all the power in the world?” “Power is its own reason,” he stated firmly, which looked all the more comical with his beard mostly burned to a crisp, his bloodied face still pointing towards the sky. I only allowed myself that grin because I knew he can’t see it. “So they haven’t told you.” “Told me what?!” he breathed out. Now that’s what I call a captive audience. “As far as anypony knows, you’re the last centaur alive. Your entire kingdom collapsed many centuries ago. Even if the centaurs were able to live without magic, they did not thrive. The gargoyles? They vanished even sooner, they are just a heraldic symbol now. Take away all the power, and everything dies. Call us ponies weak-minded, fine. We sure are a more magical people than most, we wouldn’t last a moon. But we would just be the first ones out. Eat all the magic in the world, and soon, very soon, you will be all alone. Forever. You want power? For power’s sake? I don’t think you’re that stupid. What are you afraid of, Tirek?! What scared you so much, that you’d rather kill off the entire world than face it?!” And then I squished myself into the warm scaly surface of Spike’s head and pressed my ears closed with my hooves in preparation for his reply. And what a reply it was. Just as I expected, there was nothing intelligible in it, just a roar of blind, all-consuming rage, the loudest one yet. I am not sure if centaurs were related to minotaurs in any way or not, but if nothing else, this is a trait they both seem to share with bovines – a short fuse, culminating in blind, unthinking fury. The thrashing started again in earnest, and more muffled sounds of cracking glass reached me from deep down below. I kept my ears closed and held on, doing my damnedest to keep the gravity pressing me in the correct direction, so when the wave of the music of harmony reached us, I felt it long before I saw it – and I saw it with my eyes long before it got loud enough to drown out the roar, as the spire of the castle lit up like a small, golden sun, casting sharp shadows across Tirek’s face. The urge to sing along to the music I can’t even hear was difficult to ignore. Even Spike eventually turned to look towards the light, captured by the moment. That moment of relaxation was all Tirek needed to finally wrestle out of the hold, tearing Spike off and sending us hurtling across the city. The last thing I saw before we hit the ground was his gaping mouth, the shimmering funnel of dead air directed at the shining spire.