"I'm not sure about this." Spike glanced at me over his shoulder. It had been days since we entered the Dragon Lands, but we had yet to encounter a single sign of its inhabitants. "I think we should head back, you know?"
"No," I said. That option had vanished the moment we left Canterlot. "We can't."
Spike didn't say anything. He knew I was right. I still felt guilty for sharing the truth with him. When the disease struck Twilight, I had made her a promise to keep the secret from her dragon. Knowing how emotional he was, we had both agreed to hide the truth—no matter what it took. How naive of us to think we could.
It had taken the dragon less than a month to see through Twilight's disguise. A momentary lapse, thanks to her silly habit of suspending all magic while yawning, and the illusion covering her sightless eyes had vanished. She hadn't even noticed, but Spike had rushed to tell me about it. It was then that I shared some of the truth. To my surprise, he'd responded with a mere "Oh". I guess he was made of sterner stuff than I expected.
"It's the only way for Twilight to get better," I said. A lie I kept clinging to. Better. Everything was supposed to be better—I had imagined myself going to the ends of Equestria if needed, searching for some long-forgotten power that would help everyone. I still believed it, but after all this time doubt had started to creep in. What if there was no way to solve this?
"We passed the end point of the dragon migration days ago." Spike looked at the sky, no doubt hoping to spy some dragon flying over us. "Nothing at the volcano, nothing at Throne Hill. They've just vanished."
"You're still here," I said. "Try sending a scroll."
Hesitation, doubt, hopelessness. I knew Spike felt them as strongly as I did. That didn't stop him from taking a scroll out of his backpack. While he rummaged through his things for a quill, I sat on the ground. Controlling the sun exhausted me more than I liked to admit. Every day it grew weaker and weaker, demanding I expend more magic to keep it bright. At first, I had barely noticed the increased drain, but now it clawed at me for magic like a desperate elder clinging to life. If this went on I would have to consider taking mana from volunteers, or start rationing sunlight as Fancy Pants insisted.
"What should it say?" Spike turned at me, expectantly. I arched a brow. "Sorry, habit." He shook his head with a sigh. "Won't happen again."
"No worries." I smiled. He was still living in the past. To be honest, so was I.
I watched him scribble a message and puff it away into nothingness. Usually the messages would go to Auntie or Twilight. All our attempts to establish contact with the dragons had been unsuccessful. The last time any of us had heard from them was a month before the plague had struck, an interesting coincidence to say the least.
Minutes passed. Both of us knew there would be no answer, yet we stood there nonetheless. When the sun reached its peak, we continued our journey. Based on Twilight's correspondence with the Dragon Lord, their migration pattern was always was due southeast. Gritting my teeth, I took the lead.
The summer heat of the badlands mixed with my constant headache. This was the worst I had ever been in my life. My mind wandered back to the days of my careless youth. Back then I couldn’t chip my hoof without a royal mage coming to cast a healing spell. Now I was the one doing the healing.
"We'll need more water." Spike tapped on his water flask. "And gems. I haven't eaten since yesterday."
"I'll summon some tonight," I said. Preferably after I got a few hours of rest.
We walked for ages. Twice I was tempted to lower the sun early. If Spike wasn't with me, I probably would have. After a few miles we came across a patch of eggshells. Half buried in the sand, they were the only trace that other dragons ever existed. We'd found plenty: at the volcano, Throne Valley, the abandoned caves of the Everfree Forest. According to Auntie, new hatchlings only appeared every fifty years. Now there were thousands, but they too had vanished into thin air.
Night couldn't come too soon. The second of the appointed time I lowered the sun. In an instant, the weight of a mountain fell off my shoulders. At last I could think straight again.
"Food?" Spike glanced at me, his hands extended. I could see saliva on his lower lip.
"Sure." I cast a summoning spell. Never change, Spike. I smiled as the dragon gorged himself on the pile of gems that appeared.
"So, whaph will you do when we phind them?" he asked while chewing.
"Ask for advice, naturally." Another lie. I was going to ask them for strength and advice. A cure for the plague was only the beginning of my worries. If Twilight was right, I would also need a tremendous amount of magic, maybe more than the Elements of Harmony themselves. "Why? Do you have anything in mind?"
"Nah, just wondering." He licked his claws. "I mean, Twi is sick, right, and the whole of Equestria is sick, but what about you?"
"What about me?" I narrowed my eyes.
"You know, you'll still be alone." Spike tilted his head. "Like, you'll save everything, but then what? Remain alone in the world you saved?"
"Go to sleep, Spike." I looked away. I had enough problems as it was; I could find somepony when things got back to normal. Auntie would be well then. She and Luna would rule Equestria, taking back control of the sun and moon, and I would return to being comfortably useless. I would have plenty of time to pursue companionship. So why did my chest hurt as I thought about it?
"Just saying, Blue." Spike shrugged. "Funny I'm the one to give advice, but—" Spike belched, green flames emerging from his mouth. My ears perked up as, for the first time, I stared at the thing I had sought all along—hope. Today, hope came in the form of a scroll, dropping out of the air and onto the ground.
For the longest of seconds we looked at each other motionless, then Spike grabbed the scroll.
"It's from Ember," Spike said, as he read. "She... oh." He suddenly stopped. I shuffled my legs, but didn't ask the question. Instead, I grabbed hold of the scroll with my magic. Feeling the tug, the dragon let it go.
Spike, I know this might be hard, but you can’t write to me again.
I'm gone.
The letter was harsh, but it had given me what I needed. Thanks to a few of Auntie's spells, I could pinpoint Ember's exact location. It would only take teleporting there to get on with my plan. With the sun down, I could easily teleport Spike back to Ponyville, keeping him safely out of the way. Seeing his agitated state, however, I wasn't sure that would be the best idea. Twilight would be upset, and I needed her.
I concentrated on the scroll. I could see minuscule traces of magic flicker as they evaporated into the air and pulled them in, consuming them in preparation for my spell. Pure dragon essence flooded my senses for a moment—cold and dry as its owner, ripe with the stench of unbridled greed. Clearly, the Dragon Lord wasn't the belle Spike thought her to be.
"Hey." I moved closer. "It'll be fine." I had Auntie to thank for that lie. She said it at the end of every visit. "Maybe she's just worried about you."
"Yeah." Spike nodded. It was clear he wished he could believe me. "Guess there still are dragons in Equestria. They just don't want to see us."
The phrase made my nostrils flare up. I knew what he was saying was logical, but at the same time I felt rage as I never had before. Those arrogant winged lizards! Who were they to treat me like this?! They knew I controlled the sun and moon, I had sent them scrolls stressing the point, and they still refused to see me?
"That's too bad." I started my teleportation spell. "I want to see them!"
The world popped around me like a bubble. Next thing I knew I was in a cave of some sort. A dark red fiery glow irritated my eyes. Molten lava. Normal, considering the sender was a dragon.
"Whoa!" Spike said wide eyed. "You—"
I didn't wait for him to finish and cast a protection sphere around my body before trotting forward. The sound of hissing and bubbling drowned the sound of my hooves. A sticky smell of ash mixed with sulfur filled my nostrils, bringing tears to my eyes.
"Wait up!" I heard Spike's voice behind me, but kept going. I could feel magic emanating from somewhere ahead, old and powerful magic. How could magic stronger than mine have remained hidden? Twilight's spell and the map were supposed to show me all of the great artifacts, magic-users, and natural sources of mana in Equestria. Gritting my teeth, I broke into a gallop.
The cave led to a larger tunnel. The larger tunnel led to a hall, and the hall made me freeze in my tracks. Blood red rubies shone from the walls, bathing everything in aether light. They weren't the source of the magic.
"Blue." Spike came running in into the hall. "Why did you run off like that?" Then he saw them too.
Dragon eggs. Thousand upon thousands of eggs. The entire floor was made of them, continuing as far as the eye could see—and each held as much magic as I did.
"So you decided to come, after all?" A loud voice echoed throughout the hall. I looked around trying to find its source. It didn't take me long. Part of the floor shifted. The eggs parted, letting an enormous dragon head emerge. He stared right down at me. "I knew you had a crush on my Ember, little dragon. I didn't think you'd bring a pony here."
"Dragon Lord Torch," Spike whispered.
"I brought us here!" I said, trying not to tremble. "It was my decision, and I have a very good reason for it."
"Oh?" The dragon's head smirked. "Enlighten me."
"The Princess of the Sun has been afflicted by a sickness," I began, carefully choosing my words. If I didn't make it sound serious enough, the dragon might not help me. Too serious, and Spike would start asking questions at a time he shouldn't. "As has the Princess of the Night. I've sought you out to seek your help in finding a cure—"
The dragon laughed.
"You disturbed my sleep for that? Go back to your palace, little horse."
"Equestria is dying!" The words slipped my mouth. In part I felt like biting my tongue, but this was the point of no return. "If you don't help me, so will you!"
More laughter echoed throughout the hall. I felt someone tug on my tail, probably Spike, but chose to ignore it.
"Amusing,” the dragon head said. "You think the end of a world would affect us? We are dragons, not some soft fleshy ponies. Worlds come and go, but we remain forever."
"How?" Rage bubbled inside me. Rage at my own futility, at how helpless I was. My aunts had granted me the strength of two alicorns and still I remained powerless.
"We wait."
"Blue." Spike tugged me again.
"Not now, Spike!" I hissed.
"The eggs! They are here!" he insisted. "All the dragon—"
"I'm not blind!" I snapped at him. "I can see they're here! Do you take me for an idiot?"
"No, I mean the dragons are the eggs! Ember, Garble, the rest, they are the eggs."
The phrase hit me like a wet blanket. My heart raced as I looked down, only now seeing the obvious. Dragons, tens of thousands of them, shrunken to the size of eggs. Auntie had told me about this when I was a colt: Dragons were an embodiment of greed and magic—the more they had, the larger they grew, yet should they choose they could revert back to their original state...protected by an indestructible shell.
"Seek your answers elsewhere, pony," the elder dragon grumbled. "Enjoy what time you have left."
"So it's over?" My legs felt faint. All this search to receive a death sentence.
"Perhaps." Torch mused. His giant eyes bored into mine, as if to determine my worth. Whatever the test was, I apparently failed, for he snorted fire out of his nostrils. "No, you won't do."
"Tell me." I moved forward.
"Blue, I don't think—" Spike began, but I cast a silence spell around him.
"If you can do it why can't I?"
"I suppose you could." Torch narrowed his eyes, his massive mouth forming a smile. "Give me one thing and I'll tell you how."
"Typical dragon greed." I spat the words out.
"We are what we are. Do you want my advice or not?"
Ever fiber of my body screamed it was a trap. Dragons were know for taking advantage of any situation. If I were talking to Ember there was a chance she'd help me, but Torch... And yet, I still couldn't refuse the offer. No matter what it cost me, I had to see this through.
"Do you guarantee it will work?" I asked. Beside me, Spike was doing all sorts of signs to tell me to stop. Too late, my friend. I cast a force bubble around him, trapping him in an aether cell.
"No." Torch sounded amused. "If that does not interest you, walk away. Your choice, princelet."
There was no telling what he could ask of me. If I was lucky it could be treasure, gems, possibly even control of the sun. That's what any dragon would want. Not in a decaying world, though. What good would any of that do if it would all fade away?
"There is a way, little prince." The dragon’s voice turned to a low, seductive rumble. "Give me what I ask and I will tell you how."
"What do you want?" I asked, my mind racing through all the options. What possibly could interest him?
"Him." A plume of smoke made its way towards Spike, stopping feet away from the aether bubble I had encase him within. The little guy didn't react well, pounding on the barrier in a futile attempt to break through. "Give him to me and I will make you know."
The math made sense. A whelp for the whole of Equestria. Auntie would understand—even Twilight would. So why did I feel like I had a shard of glass in my stomach? Giving a life away, even if it was just one, was against everything Auntie stood for, everything Equestria stood for. I turned around towards Spike. Seeing my gaze the dragon went quiet. He couldn't hear anything spoken outside his bubble, but he knew—I could tell he knew. Right now I wished I could be more like Fancy. Under his silken exterior was a being of pure steel. He could easily sacrifice one half of Equestria if it meant saving the other.
"Fine!" I hissed.
"A wise choice. He might be a wingless dragon pony, but he's still better among his own." Torch stirred. The entire hall trembled. "There is no way to stop the fading, but you can wait it out. Just like us." His giant hand emerged, taking Spike from next to me. "It will take everything you have, the sun, the moon, your essence itself, but you can manage. When the new world is born you will awaken, possibly with your memories intact."
"That's my choice?" I would laugh if it weren't so tragic. "Save myself and leave everyone else to die?"
"Ponies will come again into being. This time you'll guide them."
"What about Equestria?" I flared up my horn as anger filled me.
"No." He shook his head, his hand and Spike disappearing under the sea of dragon eggs. "Only your memories of it."
"That's all you have to tell me?" I pounded my hooves against the floor and snorted. "Let everything become dust so I can live?!"
"Oh, no." Torch's eyes flashed. "In order to survive like a dragon you must become like one, and for a pony like you that means sacrificing the one you love, who is your very life, your world itself. Only by smashing—unleashing—the most powerful of attachments can your essence flow from this age to the next."
"I don't have anypony I love!" I shouted. Was the dragon even listening to what he was saying?
"Then you die. If you want to see your new Equestria, you must find and sacrifice your love."
The dragon's head disappeared under the eggs. If they were less invulnerable, I would have cast a lightning bolt at him through the shells to destroy them. I had given up Spike and gotten less than nothing in return—a seed of temptation stuck inside my brain.
"You're wrong," I growled. "There's another way and I will find it!" I would, no matter what it took, and I would never become as heartless as him!