//------------------------------//
// Chapter 14 Desires 
// Story: Scaled Heights 
// by Zephyr Spark 
//------------------------------//

            In the coliseum, Ponyville’s team was busy training for the Games. Spike had spent almost an hour practicing his archery, and although his fingers were almost numb, he refused to stop. Tomorrow the Games would begin, and he wanted to be as ready as possible. Sure, his friends said he would be ready but he wanted to be at his best. As his arm muscles began to ache, he remembered how he got sick from exercising without taking a break. Despite the painful ache in his arms, the young dragon was tempted to push forward, until memories of his past bought with exhaustion returned to him.

            “I think it’s time for a break.”

            He quietly laid his bow down, before taking a seat on the ground. Though his moment of relief was short lived, as Rainbow quickly walked towards him, letter clamped between her jaws.

            “More fan mail?”

            “Nope, it’s from Lightning Star.”

            Spike practically tore the grass up from beneath him, jumping to his feet. “What’s the matter?”

            “I don’t know but he said it’s urgent.”

            Within moments, the rest of Ponyville’s team gathered around. Once they were all seated, Spike opened the letter and read it aloud.

            “Dear Spike,

I talked to the ponies who have direct ties to overseeing the Games, and I got some information you should know. This year, the Game Officials plan on having more archery contests than previous years. Normally there are only three to four contests, but this year, there are more than fifteen. Word is Prince Blueblood wants to give Silver Shine a good send off since this is his last appearance. As such, he’s bringing back some older challenges from when Silver was my age. Most notably, Arrow Tag.”

            Spike glanced up at Dash, hoping for some explanation, only for her to shake her head. “Sorry, I’ve never heard of it. Keep reading; maybe there’s more.”

            Spike glanced down at the letter and read through. “Lightning says its like dodge ball, except with foam arrows, it takes place in a maze. Looks like it’s a free-for-all match between every team. Whoever hits the most opponents, wins.”

            “That’s not good,” Dash grumbled. “That kind of contest favors cities with more than one archer, like Fillydelphia, Trottingham, or Yan Hoover.”

            “That’s what Lightning’s worried about,” Spike said. “He says the Baltimare, Fillydelphia, and Manehatten teams will probably be after me.” His mouth felt dried out, imagining every participant with their bows aimed directly at him. The thought certainly didn’t help him relax. “That means I’d be facing off against Yellow Bolt, Silver Shine, and Dark Spectre.”

            “You can handle them,” Twilight said.

            “You think so?” Spike asked, hoping she wasn’t just saying that to reassure him.

            “I’m certain of it,” Twilight placed her hoof on his shoulder. “Lightning taught you archery that’s perfectly suited for this kind of match. You can pretty much shoot on the move and aim, draw, and fire in one motion. You’ll launch the first arrow before they even have a chance. Plus, you’re smaller than any other of the pony participants, so you’ll be harder to hit.”

            Spike rolled his eyes, “Never thought I’d be grateful to be small.”

            Dash frowned in thought. “If ponies haven’t played this contest in decades, there’s only three possible reasons why. Either it was too dangerous, which seems unlikely, it took too long to wrap up, or it was too one-sided.”

            “Umm, how do you wrap up archery?” Bulk asked with a half-smile.

            Dash gave him an unamused glance. “That was another expression.”

            “I kinda thought so,” Bulk admitted. “Sometimes ponies laugh whenever I say stuff, so I thought maybe I could say something that would make you all laugh. You know, so Spike could feel less stressed about this arrow tag. I guess that doesn’t work cause I constantly misconstrue your expressions.”

            “Misconstrue-what?” Dash raised an eyebrow. “Use words, Bulk.”

            “Misconstrue is a word, Dash.”

            “Words that make sense.”

            “Oh, I gotcha.” Bulk winked. “Well, then my words often leave a sour taste in your mouth because I never see the true meaning of your expressions. Whenever I talk, you hear the confused chatter of a stallion who always smells like sweat. I usually can’t quite touch upon the real meaning of what ponies say. So you wouldn’t be able to tell when I’m actually joking, because you don’t have a sixth sense to read my mind.”

            “What the heck are you saying?”

            “You said use words that make sense. Don’t you know about the five senses?”

            Rarity quickly interrupted the exchange. “What else does the letter say?”

            Spike read on. “The teams might form alliances. So this could become a battle between those supporting me and those siding with Blueblood.”

            “That would be an almost even fight,” Said Twilight.

            “He says some of the other archers can teleport, cast shields, or even hold down an opponent. Looks like Silver Shine’s got a gift in teleportation. He used to be known as ‘the Silver Blur’ because he was so fast.” Spike’s free hand had to massage his aching temples. “Oh mane. How am I supposed to win if I can’t even hit him?”

            “Remember, teleportation isn’t an exact science,” Twilight said. “If a caster runs out of magic, they can’t teleport. You can win as long as you wear him out. I should be able to help, just need to measure how much magic he has.”

            “Easier said than done. Lightning told me the only reason arrow tag hasn’t been in the last few games is because of Silver. He’s held the championship title for the event since he started participating up until it was removed from the games. Nopony was ever able to hit him, so what chance do I have?”

            “Calm down,” Said Twilight putting a hoof on Spike’s shoulder. “Maybe nopony has beat him, but I know you can. We just need to work out a strategy. Does Lightning have any tips?”

            “He wants to meet me tonight, during the Crystal Empire’s training session and show me a few moves that might help.”

            “Sounds like a plan,” Dash said.

            “This still sounds fishy,” Rarity grimaced. “I’ll bet that no-good Blueblood chose this event because he knew it would put Spike at a disadvantage.”

            Bulk bit his tongue, swallowing his question of what a fish would sound like, fearing it would just annoy them. Instead, he simply said, “Maybe.”

            “Well, even if he did,” Twilight said, “He’s an elected official. We can’t make claims against him without proof. Let’s just focus on what we can do. Then, we’ll worry about him. For now let’s work on strategies to deal with Silver’s teleportation. I know I brought some books on teleportation and its potential flaws.”

            Before she could begin a lecture, a royal guard interrupted them, “Excuse me, Princess Twilight. Yellow Bolt came to us. He says he has information regarding those who attacked Starlight.”

            “That’s great, I’ll speak with him at once.”

            “That’s the problem,” the guard said. “He said he’d only talk to Spike.”

            Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

            “He doesn’t think you’ll treat him fairly. He’s willing to talk to Spike because he asked the royal guard not to interrogate Yellow during his training sessions.”

            Spike said, “I guess I did say that.”

            “It was very nice of you,” Said Fluttershy. “Especially after he was so unkind.”

            “Wait a minute,” Dash said, “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. He made all the other teams angry at Spike, went out of his way to be a jerk, and now he wants to help us?”

            “It is most peculiar,” Rarity agreed.

            “Ya think it’s a trap?” Applejack asked. “Honestly, I wouldn’t put it beyond that Yeller to pull something.”

            “You’re probably right,” Twilight said. “And frankly, I don’t want to take the chance.” She turned to the guard, “Tell Yellow Bolt—.”

            “I’ll talk to him,” Spike interrupted. They turned to look at him. “I’ll hear what he has to say.” He raised a hand to stop Twilight from rebuking him. “Starlight’s in the hospital, Twilight. She might never use magic again. If Yellow Bolt knows anything that could help us find those responsible, then I can’t just ignore it.”

            “But he brought everypony against you the first night we were here. How could you even think of talking with him?”

            Spike folded his arms across his chest. “Didn’t you give Starlight a second chance? She stole your cutie marks and nearly destroyed Equestria, but we gave her a chance. Why not him?”

            Twilight sighed. “I understand your point, Spike. But I just don’t trust him.”

            “Excuse me,” Bulk said. “I know I’m not smart like you all, but I do have an opinion. Would it be alright if I said it?”

            They all nodded.

            “I understand why you’re worried, Twilight, and you should too, Spike. Yellow Bolt’s done nothing but stir up trouble for us at every turn. It’s hard not to think he could be responsible for trashing our room.”

            “Oh yeah.” Suddenly, Spike began to wonder if he was too naïve in assuming he could trust Yellow.

            “But on the other hoof,” Bulk said, “Yellow’s been the only one so far to show any kind of restraint. He’s never done anything violent to Spike, and even calls him by his actual name. I’m not saying he’s been good pony, but maybe there’s some good in him. If we don’t reach out, we’ll never know.”

            Twilight nodded. “I guess it would be presumptuous to assume he’s with the dragon-haters.”

            “Yeah,” Bulk said. “I’m not an element of harmony like the rest of you, but those are just my thoughts.”

            “And we appreciate it, Bulk,” Twilight smiled. “You’re just as important to this discussion as any of us.” Bulk, blushing embarrassed at the praise, could only reply with a humble, little bow. She turned to the guard, “Spike can speak with him. But make sure Yellow doesn’t try anything sneaky.”

            Before he could leave, Spike belched out a scroll, bearing Princess Celestia’s seal.   “Would it be okay if I go talk to Yellow now?” Spike said as he handed her the letter. “I don’t want to be held up for some new Canterlot emergency.”

            “Get going,” Twilight said. “If the letter’s important, I’ll tell you later.”

            Spike left with the Royal Guard, as Twilight opened the newest letter. As she read, her face paled and her eyes widened.

            “What is it? What does it say?” Asked Dash.

            “The Royal Council has forbidden Princess Celestia and Princess Luna from attending the Games.”

            “WHAT?!” Everypony screamed.

            “The council was worried the anti-dragon group would steal their magic like Starlight,” Twilight said. “So they’re staying in Canterlot for their own protection. At Prince Blueblood’s insistence.”

            “I knew it. That conniving little weasel.” Rarity grumbled. “What does this mean for Spike? Can he still participate?”

            “And what about you? You’re a princess too,” Applejack said. “What’d they say about you?”

            After reading a little further Twilight relaxed a little bit. “Princess Celestia and Princess Luna managed to convince the council to let me stay with Spike. They also made sure that Ponyville could participate in the Games.”

            “There’s some good news at least,” Pinkie Pie gave a little smile.

            “But without the Princesses,” Twilight said, feeling a heavy weight on her shoulders, “Prince Blueblood could rig some little detail of the Games against Spike. I might not even notice.”

            “If he does anything to hurt our little Spikey-wikey, the Princesses will be the last thing he’ll have to worry about,” Said Rarity as she clenched her teeth. Everypony nodded in agreement.

            Pinkie Pie turned to Twilight, “You’re a princess. Can’t you just order him to be nice?”

            “He controls the Games, remember? Royalty can’t interfere. If he could ban Princess Celestia and Luna, it’s no stretch that he could ban me too if I do something he doesn’t like. I need more power over him, someway to keep him from abusing Spike or rigging the Games.”

            “Like what?” Asked Pinkie.

            “I don’t know,” Twilight shrugged. “In all honesty, I doubt he’d even listen to me.

            “Um, excuse me,” Fluttershy’s tiny voice peeped up. “Well, I just think that since you’re a princess, you could maybe do somethings to put pressure on him so he treats Spike fairly.”

            Twilight tilted her head. “Sorry, I don’t understand.”

            “Well, it’s just that Spike’s made a lot of powerful friends, like Thorax and Princess Ember, who would hate to see him get hurt,” Said Fluttershy. “You are still royalty, so you could, perhaps, send them invitations? Don’t you think they’d like to see Spike in the Games?”

            Slowly, a grin spread across Twilight’s face. “Fluttershy, you wicked genius.” She began drafting her invitational letters in her mind as she went to get some paper.





            At Silver’s private archery range, the master took a deep breath and readied himself. Beyond the reinforced windows of his studio, spectators observed him as he entered the room, littered with arrows and targets. He seemed tranquil, completely still, like a solitary oak. His eyes were closed, but his mind was already several steps ahead. When the timekeeper hit the stopwatch, Silver vanished in a burst of grey light and reappeared with seven arrows.

            He teleported to the top of a makeshift wall and launched six arrows within seconds, hitting six targets around him. Silver Shine warped across the field, picking up three arrows from the ground, and nailed three dummies meters apart on opposite sides. By the time each arrow hit its mark, Silver had already teleported to center of the field, retrieved five more arrows, and sent each racing into another five leather dummies. He was a blur, picking up arrows scattered across the floor, embedding them in his targets with uncanny precision. As soon as an arrow hit his mark, he was already firing three more from the other side of the room. His movements and attacks were coordinated like a rehearsal, a chess game he’d already won in his mind. He struck the hundredth target with ease. Silver exhaled, and looked at the timekeeper with the stopwatch.

            “A little over two minutes and thirty seconds,” he said, earning a round of applause.

            “That slow?” Silver said with a half-smile. “I really am getting old.”

            The spectators chuckled along with their employer until the half-smile vanished from Silver’s face.

            “Bring in the archers,” Silver said. “I don’t expect to be fighting stationary targets.”

            Fifteen archers with foam arrows entered the arena, looks of apprehension etched on their faces. Each clad in their protective headgear and turned to their employer, yet they were still hesitant to face him. Servants came forward and suited Silver with his own headgear, while janitors quickly replaced the iron-headed arrows with foam tipped ones. Once the field was set, Silver turned to his crew.

            “Don’t baby me. I expect each of you to give it your all.” Silver narrowed his eyes, “Do I make myself clear?”

            “Yes sir,” they said in unison, taking places across the arena, surrounding Silver. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, working out the battle in his head step by step. He imagined taking his title back from Lightning Star, the glory of besting that filthy dragon archer. Once the starting bell rang and the archers began to fire, he had already beaten them. When the starting bell rang tomorrow, he would beat Lightning Star and Spike.





            Meanwhile, as he drew closer to Yellow’s room, Spike was having second thoughts about the meeting. Spike still harbored plenty of resentment for Yellow’s cold reception of him earlier this week, and his attempts to stir up the other teams didn’t help. Still, he promised to give Yellow a chance. For Starlight, he had to at least listen. As he and the guard approached the room, he pushed away his fears and knocked on the door.

            “Yellow Bolt? It’s me, Spike. The guards said you want to talk?”

            A raspy voice replied, “Door’s open, come on in.”

            Spike hesitated a moment, still unnerved at the prospect of being alone with Yellow.

            “I said come in.” Yellow said, “I’m not getting any younger!”

            Spike reminded himself that Starlight was counting on him as he opened the door and went inside.

            Yellow Bolt sat on the edge of his bed, misty sweat streaked across his forehead. He almost seemed like a child, waking up from a nightmare, terrified and alone. The moment he saw Spike, he quickly assumed a more domineering posture, muffling his fears behind a mask of pride. Still, that mask seemed far less imposing than it did a few days ago; he looked weaker, haunched over and troubled.

            “So,” Spike said, stepping further into the room, “you wanted to tell me something?”

            Yellow nodded. “I heard your friend got attacked by those fanatics.”

            “Do you know something about them?”

            Yellow looked away. “Can I ask you something first? You don’t think it makes you weak, if you can’t bring yourself to hate the ponies who hurt you? If you still defend them? Still, love who they used to be?”

            “What are you talking about?” Spike folded his arms across his chest. “Yellow, my friend is in the hospital. If you have anything that could help her, please just say it.”

            Yellow Bolt shook his head. “I guess you couldn’t understand.”

            He turned to his desk and pulled out three photographs of three different stallions from his drawer, quickly tossing them Spike. Each stallion had frozen yellow eyes of amber, glinting like the edge of a knife. He glanced up at Yellow, waiting for an explanation. Looking at the old photos seemed to make Yellow shiver and grow pale. When he noticed Spike staring at him, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

            “Their names are Crimson Bolt, White Bolt, and Iron Bolt. They’re my brothers.” Yellow looked at Spike for a reaction but found none. Spike was busy staring at their faces, searching for Yellow’s likeness. “Most ponies remember them for taking gold medals in the Games and setting records in everything they did. About ten years ago, Crimson Bolt won a whole fencing tournament and a martial arts tournament without getting hit even once. Then, he set new records in the 100, 200, and even the 400-meter sprint. Three years later, White Bolt got three medals in gymnastics, and two for running long jump and the wall climb. Then, he got six spellcasting medals. Two years later, Iron Bolt got medals in weightlifting, shot put, javelin throw, and hammer toss. He even won a boxing tournament by total knock out. They were undefeated in anything they did.”

            “Wow.” Spike realized even Rainbow Dash probably didn’t have that many records.

            “Yeah, they were amazing.” He said, “A lot of their success was thanks to our dad. He always pushed us to be the best in anything we did, said we had to show the world that ponies were the toughest, strongest, and most gifted creatures in Equestria. He always ranted and raved how if we let any other species beat us, it’d make ponies obsolete. Guess you could say he’s the reason for our viewpoints on other races.”

            “Charming,” Spike muttered with a flat expression.

            “You didn’t know him,” Yellow snapped.

            “Sorry,” Spike said. “Please continue.”

            He took a deep breath. “He was, well he used to be my hero. As far as dads go, he was pretty good.” Yellow gave a small grin, “I remember one time I wanted to turn in the best project for my school’s science fair, so he stayed up all night helping me on a subject that he knew nothing about. My brothers helped me too. In the end, we only managed to get ourselves stuck in great glue covered mess. Of course, we just ended up laughing and rolling around in newspapers, like a bunch of fillies.”

            He gave a soft laugh, recalling how long it took washing out that sticky glue from their fur. Spike almost found himself smiling until Yellow’s smile dipped into a frown. “Dad was the ringleader for the biggest pony supremacist group in Fillydelphia. He lobbied the Fillydelphia Governors to banish the dragons of Dragon Town and did his best to make every dragon as miserable as possible. His group was probably the one that attacked your friend; hoods, torches, effigies, it fits.”

            “Where is he?” Asked Spike. “Your dad?”

            “Fillydelphia Cemetery,” Yellow said without changing his somber expression. “He died last week.”

            “Oh. Sorry.”

            “Yeah, me too,” said Yellow.

            “What’re you apologizing for?”

            Yellow shrugged, as though he knew but could not explain his apology in cumbersome words. “Being useless, I guess.”

            “Do you know who’s running the organization?”

            “If I had to guess, one of my brothers. They’d be next in line for leadership.”

            “Do you know where I can find them?”

            After a moment’s hesitation, he shook his head. That hesitation disturbed Spike.

            “Yellow, if you know something—.”

            “I don’t,” he said, a bit too quickly. He seemed to be more angered and defensive than guilty. “Look, I get that you have every reason to doubt me, but it’s the truth.”

            Realizing Yellow was becoming frustrated, Spike decided to take a different approach. “What about their magic powers?”

            Yellow frowned. “Excuse me?”

            “Do they or any of their followers practice any dangerous magic?”

            “As far as I know, they don’t have any magic beyond what a normal unicorn has. That could’ve changed in the past few years, but I doubt it. Hate groups don’t usually attract geniuses. They do attract rich ponies with lots of money, but not so much ponies with actual magical talent.”

            “Can you give any names?”

            “I wouldn’t know who’s in the group these days. To them, I’ve been dead ever since I turned fifteen.”

            “So you really don’t know?”

            "No." Yellow scowled, realizing Spike had become suspicious. “You don’t trust me.”

            Spike didn’t bother denying it or see any point in denying it. He shrugged. “Can you blame me?”

            His scowl softened. “No, I guess not. But believe it or not, I don’t hate dragons.”

            “Forgive me, but I do find that hard to believe,” Spike said.

            “You want to know why being at the Games means everything to me? Why I thought you would ruin everything for me? This was my one chance to get my dad to love me again, like he used to, before I became friends with dragons.”

            Spike stood rigid, “What?”

           “When I was ten, I went to Dragon Town without telling my family. I just wanted to know why they hated dragons so much. When I went there, I was expecting monsters, but instead I met some of the kindest, gentlest folk I’d ever known. None of them cared that I was a pony or who my dad was. They weren’t ugly or dumb, they weren’t even dangerous. They just welcomed me and showed me their world. Those dragons were the best friends I ever knew. For five years, I’d sneak out to visit Dragon Town whenever I had the chance….then my dad found out.” Bolt actually clenched his eyes and teeth at the harsh memories of his childhood. “He was so furious with me, he got my brothers to pin me down and flog me for hours, all for making friends with dragons. Of course they were all too happy to take part, but my dad, he just sat there and watched it happen. He didn’t yell, curse, or even say anything. He just stared at me with this cold, empty look in his eyes, and that hurt more than any beating my brothers gave me.”

            Spike felt furious bile rise in his throat. “That’s horrible! How could he do that to his own son?” Despite distrusting Yellow, Spike found tears running down his eyes.

            Yellow looked away. “My dad said I was betraying my own race, that I was a weak coward. Looking at things now, maybe he was right.” His hooves began trembling.

            He felt warm claws on his hooves, steadying him. When he opened his eyes, he saw Spike, right beside him, laying his claws over his hooves.

            “I’m sorry he made you feel that way, but he was wrong. Today, you came forward and talked to me, to get justice for Starlight. I can’t even imagine how much courage that took, especially after what he did to you.”

            Yellow gave a ghost of a smile. “You know what’s really messed up? I still love my dad and my brothers. Or I love who they used to be.”

            Overwhelmed with anger, sympathy, and remorse, Spike said nothing. Words of comfort escaped his grasp. He rubbed his eyes, halting his tears.

            “I guess,” Spike said slowly with a shaky voice, “We all want to remember the best of those we loved. We always want to love them, even when we’re not sure we should.”

            The stallion gazed on, with blank eyes, never drawing his hoof from Spike’s grasp. When he realized how long he’d been holding Yellow’s hoof, Spike withdrew his hand, silently. 

            “Can I just ask for one favor?” Yellow said. “If my brothers are responsible for what happened to your friend, please don’t have them banished or executed. They need help getting rid of my dad’s brainwashing, real professional help. They’re probably more broken than I am.”

            “If it was them, I’ll ask Twilight to give them some mercy. Thanks for everything”

            Yellow’s tensed shoulders dipped, as he released a breath he had been holding all morning. He gave Spike a genuine smile, full of honesty. Spike wondered if this was the start of a new friendship, but then a proud scowl wormed onto Yellow’s face.

            “Don’t go thinking this makes us buddies or anything,” Yellow scoffed. “I’m still gonna beat you tomorrow.”

            Spike’s frills drooped for a second, a little disappointed, but then he shrugged. “I don’t expect any mercy, and I won’t give you any.”

            “Good.” Yellow turned around, “Now get out. You’re interrupting my sleep.”

            Spike turned around and took a few steps to the door, wondering how Yellow could move from distraught to friendly to distant so quickly. Perhaps Yellow became hostile whenever he felt threatened or worried that he betrayed weakness, but that stallion was beyond him. Without thinking, he turned back to Yellow.

            “The first event tomorrow. It’s Arrow Tag.”

            Yellow lifted his head. “What? There hasn’t been an Arrow Tag competition in decades.”

            “I heard it from Lightning. He said that Blueblood apparently wants to send off Silver Shine with a bang, since this is his last time in the Games.’”

            Yellow blinked, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Even if that were true, why are you telling me?”

            Spike opened his mouth but found no response. Why did he tell Yellow? He had nothing to gain from it and plenty to lose. Despite searching for an answer, he could only think of Yellow’s tearful confession and pained face.

            “Just think of it as payment,” Said Spike with a shrug, “For being so helpful. And because I feel sorry for you.”

            “Is that it?” Yellow’s skeptical frown dimmed. “Well, as long as we’re sharing stuff, you might want to know Honey Charm mastered invisibility.”

            “Who’s Honey Charm?”

            “Baltimare’s archer. Dark grey fur, doesn’t talk much, likes apple cider and flute playing, kinda has an emo-thing going on.”

            “Oh, her. I thought her name was Dark Spectre.”

            “That’s just a nickname her fans gave her. She doesn’t really answer to anything else. Don’t ask me why, she just likes the name. Guess she thinks it sounds cool."

"I seriously thought that was her name."

Yellow scoffed. "Some ponies have ridiculous names, but do you honestly think anyone would name their child ‘Dark Spectre?’ Come on.”

            “Okay, well, what were you saying about Dark Spectre—I mean Honey Charm?”

            “She’s mastered invisibility magic. That’s part of where she gets the name ‘Spectre.’ If there’s Arrow Tag, she’ll be out for the newbies like you.”

            “Well, thanks for that. I’ll make sure to remember it.” With a nod of appreciation, he walked out the door, leaving Yellow alone in his thoughts. The stallion released a breath he'd been holding. He felt lighter, as though an iron spike had been taken out from his heart. It took him a few seconds before he noticed, with some perplexity, the smile on his face.

            He pulled out another photo from his drawer, showing his younger self, smiling beside five other young dragons, all just a little bigger than Spike. Yellow stared at the first and only person he’d ever fallen in love with, the reason he kept going to Dragon Town those five years, and the reason his father called him a traitor: a short, white-scaled, male dragon. His name was Frost, and he had all but stolen Yellow’s heart. “Dad was right calling me a coward,” Yellow realized with some bitter irony as tears poured out of his eyes, “I never told Frost how I felt.”