“How dare that wretched woman?” Tirek asked himself as he came to the steps of his mother’s mansion. At least an hour had gone by thanks to his journey, precious time wasted thanks to his Master’s charm on the property. The herd of centaurs and gargoyles flooding the city streets as he walked did nothing to better his mood. “Makes me fetch Spike, she’ll probably have the gall to tell me to dispel the charm on this forsaken mansion. It would have been better to have been born to a humbler family, maybe then I’d be respected.” Tirek knocked on his mother’s door several times, much harder than he should have.
“Mother, come out here now!” He shouted when there was no immediate response. “I do not have time for your games!”
The door suddenly flew open as Lady Haydon came floating out, her face glowing with a soft light as she laid eyes on her eldest child.
“Tirek, my son!” she gasped. “It’s so good to see you again!”
“Shut your mouth! I want Spike! In case you’ve forgotten, Kindle left him with me, not you! I am his caregiver, I am his teacher, and I hold dominion over him because she entrusted me to raise him! All you’re capable of doing is spoiling the boy!”
Haydon gave her son a gentle smile, before floating upwards and giving him a small kiss on his forehead.
“Tirek, I love you more than anything,” She said, gently stroking his cheek, “but if you want me to engage with you, you’ll have to try again.” Haydon quickly hovered back into the house and slammed the door in her son’s face.
With a hardening glare, Tirek slammed his fists against the door twice, sending a small shock through the mansion. The door opened again, and Haydon came floating out, her face glowing with a soft light as she laid eyes on her eldest child.
“Tirek, my son!” she gasped. “It’s so good to see you again!”
“I detest the way you treat me, Mother. Is this what I get for listening to you, respecting you enough to put up with my fool of a younger brother, his detestable wife, and their countless brats, as I keep Spike in this forsaken city? You do nothing but stab me in the back when you send that wretch to abduct him. I will give you five seconds to relinquish the boy, before I tear this house down and drag him from the rubble!”
“Third time’s the charm, my sweet child.”
Haydon once again slammed the door on her eldest child, leaving him to stew in his own anger. With his fists, Tirek struck the door several times, almost losing control of his anger. He thought about blasting down the door, but that would only give his mother something to lord over him the next time this happened. He had to stay in control. The door opened once again, and Haydon came floating out, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw her eldest child.
“Tirek, my son!” she gasped. “It’s so good to see you again!”
“You-!”
Before Tirek could finish, Haydon slammed the door shut. The centaur lost control of his actions as he began to slam his fist and even his head against the door as he shouted countless curses at his mother and her handmaiden. His tantrum lasted for a good five minutes before tapering out and fading with a passing breeze. As his breathing slowly came back under his control, Tirek gave the door three gentle knocks.
The door opened once again, and there, hovering in the air, was Haydon.
“Tirek, my son!” she gasped. “It’s so good to see you again!”
“It is good to see you as well, Mother.” Tirek took a deep breath through his nose as he fought any urge to deride his mother. “Is Spike here? I must speak with my sweet, little, shamefully defiant nephew!” Tirek took a moment to pause and regain a shred of his composure, not wanting the gargoyle to slam the door on him again. “Kindle would want me to make sure he’s okay.”
“Was that so hard?” Haydon asked, giving her son a loving smile, though, Tirek knew it to be her triumphant smirk. Had it not belonged to his mother, he would have struck it from her face both swiftly and firmly. “Come in, you must be exhausted from the trip. I’m about to start dinner soon, so why don’t you relax?”
Relax? Tirek could rarely say he ever wanted to relax. Relaxing meant sloth, it meant contentment, and rot. Relax meant that Tirek was not bettering himself or growing stronger. “I want Spike.” The tone was strange. Haydon was unable to discern if her son was telling her a fact or demanding that she give him Spike to take home.
“And I want you and Spike to visit more often. Do I get what I want? No. You make me send Rarity out retrieve him from an empty house. Why, if you’re just going to leave a child to fend for himself, I have half a mind not to let you take him back at all. Oh, and Selina arrived not too long ago. Try not to frighten her like you normally do.”
Tirek’s eyes narrowed. “You not only kidnap my nephew, but you bring Scorpan’s most annoying child here as well. You seem to want to make sure Spike never prospers in his studies.”
“Oh hush! If anything, she’s helping Spike,” Haydon said, taking her son by the hand and leading him inside. “Perhaps he’s levitating a few of her toys to entertain her, reading to her from those books you buy him, or telling her the Grumpy Centaur.”
“In case you forgot, Kindle’s story mocked me, or ‘the Grumpy Centaur’ as she so lovingly called my avatar. I would rather none of my nieces and nephews hear it.”
Instantly, Haydon’s expression became less joyful and more serious. “Right, I forgot that she was the one to tell that story to Spike.” There seemed to be a drop of venom in her voice, but Tirek ignored it. Haydon took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Regardless, the story brought up a few good points. You’re still not married, and your constant scowling isn’t helping matters. And you’re much too thin. Would it kill you to eat just a little more? And that cloak of yours, I thought Rarity gave you a new one for your birthday.”
“I scowl because I must raise Kindle and Scorpan’s son, while I’m pestered and undermined by my mother. And I’m aware of my physical appearance. The Grumpy Centaur was regarded as a malnourished, living corpse whose face was made so monstrous from his constant sneering, not even his own mother could love him.”
“She would describe you like that, that ungrateful-” Haydon caught herself before she could continue any further. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, before the happiness she expressed seeing her son returned. “Maybe she was trying to tell you something. I just need you to bring him by occasionally. Come along, I’m sure you’ll want to make sure Spike isn’t, heaven forbid, relaxing for a moment. Maker knows what that might do to him in the future.”
It was just too perfect a day. Spike didn’t mind good days, but everything that had happened, baring the three ponies from earlier, felt odd. Most notably was the fact that his uncle allowed him to sleep in this morning. The last time he dared sleep in, Tirek yelled at him for an hour before barring him from dessert for the next week. Today, Tirek had only given him a glance. Then, when his uncle left to make a deposit, Rarity came by moments later to take him to his grandmother’s. What did they do then? Run an errand and pick up his favorite foods, fillet and pork loins. If that wasn’t enough, Sendak appeared and delivered his little sister, who just so happened to be invited for a weekend trip.
Why only Selina?
Normally, where Selina went, a few of Spike’s other siblings had a habit of following, especially if it meant a trip to their Grandmother’s. There was no place as warm and welcoming as Haydon’s, and the near mention of her elicited several pleas to visit. Spike was a bit shocked that there was no sign of Solomon, his younger brother of only a week, and his twin sister Silica, both of whom were gargoyles like their parents. Yet, there on his bed sat only Selina, who was clutching a doll close to her chest whilst Spike studied. She was bored, that much was obvious. Her eyes were heavy and, if Spike was being a good big brother, he would have noticed and done something to either entertain her or make a comfortable place to rest. Unfortunately, Spike had something of a one-track mind when it came to his studies and certain queries.
Was it his birthday and he had merely forgot? No, if that were the case, Sendak would have stayed when he dropped off Selina. Ever since he turned three, Sendak had given Spike a firework display for his birthday as well as a small toy of some kind, and if there was one thing that Sendak never minded doing, it was setting off some fireworks for birthdays. Shameful as it was to admit, if it weren’t for his displays, Spike would have likely thought of Sendak a stranger and nothing more until he matured a bit. However, their meeting is a story for another time.
So many coincidences would normally warrant some form of scrutiny, but Spike was much too busy to ask any proper questions. Taboos of the World lay opened in front of the dragon, turned specifically to the chapter referencing blood magic, a dark art if there ever was one. While it lacked the steps to cast the spells, the book was more than willing to share what the spell did. The memories of the three mares played back in his head, filling him with a pang of dread. What would have happened had his uncle not been there? Likely he would have given them what they wanted had the price been high enough. It was the dragon in him, no doubt.
Whomever this Azure Flame was, he seemed to take joy in describing the spells that blood mages could cast. He was shocked to learn that resurrection of the dead was possible, however doing so would normally kill the caster in the process. While blood magic could accomplish feats that normal magic could not, magic still came at a cost. And, true to its name, blood magic cost blood. Spike also noticed a warning written in the bright red ink. Those that came back to life under the influence of blood magic seldom came back by themselves, there was always something else within them.
Something else. There was a sudden chill in the air as Spike pondered what that something else was. The drake knew there was a spiritual side of magic, but he tended to avoid thoughts of more malevolent entities. At most, it took a week before the resurrected left a myriad of corpses in their wake, usually drained of blood. The bodies never tended to last long. Normally, they would rot whilst they were still ‘alive’ unless they consumed enough blood to sustain the spell. Not animal blood though, they would have to drink the blood of mortals. According to Azure Flame, the merciful thing to do for them was to jab an iron stake through their heart and burn their corpse to ash.
Then there was something called binding: where someone could bind their fate to another using their blood. A duel edged sword if there ever was one. If the caster died, so did the bound, and if the bound died, so would the caster. There was a plethora of other spells, but each one described was more sickening than the last.
“Spike, whatcha reading?” Selina asked, hopping off the bad and taking a seat next to her brother. She laid her head on his shoulder, her eyes half lidded.
Spike quickly shut the book and moved it to the side, hoping not to expose her to such frightening texts. He knew it was the wrong response. His sister was a curious little gargoyle, and anytime Spike tried to hide something from her, it spurned her into action. Already she had been invigorated with an energy she had been missing while Spike studied. She leaned in, as if getting ready to snatch the book away, much to Spike’s dismay.
“It’s a book of rules that mages shouldn’t break,” Spike said trying to make the book seem less important than it was. Then a devious little thought implanted itself in his head. There was a way he could make sure that Selina never dare open the book. It would not be fear that prevented her, Spike was not that cruel of a brother. He would simply mention the one person that his sweet little sister wanted nothing to do with. “Uncle Tirek wanted me to read it.”
Immediately, Selina’s face scrunched up. Stupid Uncle Tirek, she thought. She should avoid it if it was something her uncle liked. However, there was still desire growing in her chest that drew her to the ragged cover. Her tail began to wag as mischievous thoughts ran through her mind. What secrets did the book hold that made her brother so desperate to hide it?
“What kind of rules?” She asked, reaching out her hand to open the cover.
Spike mentally cursed himself as her bitter face faded and the book once again enchanted her like it was a fairy tale. There was a likely chance that his little sister was maturing a bit. Normally she would say in as sweet a voice as she could, ‘not interested’ before turning her nose like her mother would.
“Rules that separate good mages from bad.” Spike prided himself for coming up with such a cleverly true description. Selina didn’t need to know the exact class of magic he was researching, just a generalization. Surely that sate her growing fancy.
“How are they bad? Are they like witches? Are they in your book?” Selina asked.
“Witches? Why do they matter?”
“W-well, they kidnap princesses, don’t they?”
“In fairy tales.”
“It can happen in real life! Does it tell you how to tell who’s a witch? How do I know if I meet a witch?”
Spike recalled seeing a section on witches and warlocks in the reference page. The problem was he had not read it himself. There was likely something to frighten the poor girl. Selina tended to scare easily, and when frightened sought a sibling she could spend the night with. Normally either Spike or one of their other brothers, save for the eldest. He knew that he couldn’t say no to her. If it were a toy or a treat, then their grandmother would back up a simple no. However, this was knowledge, something of infinite value. He was likely to be scolded by both his grandmother and uncle once she told on him.
“Okay. How do you know if you meet a witch?” Spike skipped ahead in his book and came to a section on witches and warlocks. There was a bit too much information on the subject as far as he was concerned. According to the book, witches and warlocks were mages that had sold their souls in exchange for power and knowledge. A Faustian bargain if there ever was one. Afterwards, the mage would be branded with a mark, a very sinister mark. The very thing his sister could use to determine if someone was a witch. “You have to find a mark on them. Here, let me-” Spike took a piece of charcoal and a blank parchment and began drawing. “-there!” He showed his sister a finished drawing of a sun. It looked like a curving circle with squiggles dotted along the outermost edges. “If you see something like this, then you’ve met a witch.”
“A sun?” Selina asked, taking the picture.
“A black sun. The designs vary, but they all look like a black sun.”
According to the book, every witch and warlock had a brand of a black sun somewhere on their body. Why a black sun? Spike couldn’t say, but perhaps it represented what they were as mortals. Vessels of flesh lacking the light they were endowed with at conception. After all, what demonic being would sell their very soul for anything?
Selina scooted next to her brother, her tail still waging, faster than it was before. “What else is there? Oh, anything on fairies? Oh-Oh humans! Is there anything on humans?”
Spike paused for a moment. Why either of those creatures would be in a book of forbidden magic was beyond him. Fairies, from the stories he could remember off the top of his head, were a private race that rested deep in forests around the world, usually attacking any trespassers on sight. While violent, they certainly weren’t committing any taboos. Fairies never left past their boarders. Meanwhile, humans were an extinct race which died out a thousand or so years ago, leaving behind only ruins that still fascinated scholars to this day. Perhaps his sister was starting to think that the tome was a compendium of fairy tale lore. No creature was as evil as a witch, as benevolent and enchanting as a fairy, and none could hold a candle to the Human Trickster, the most famous of all human archetypes. “Selina, I don’t think fairies and humans are going to be in here. This is a textbook on magical rules, not fairy tales.”
Selina began to go wide eyed, an indicator that she was about to try and manipulate Spike somehow. “Please, Spike?” she asked. “Can’t you just check?”
What was he to do? Selina began to encroach on his personal space, as a lake of tears seemed to well up in her eyes almost instantly. Spike struggled to give her an excuse not to tell her a story of at least one race she wanted to hear about. Before Spike could answer a powerful force shook the room. The children turned towards the door, as the tears in Selina’s eyes almost instantly disappearing. There came another great slam as the door to the room was nearly kicked off its hinges, shocking both children.
“Uncle Tirek!” they screamed in unison, gawking at the centaur that stood in menacingly the doorway. Almost instantly, Selina was pulled behind Spike as the dragon attempted to protect her from the blazing gaze of their uncle. Unfortunately, a wave of anxiety overtook Spike as the centaur stood tall, while their Grandmother waited behind him with a flat, disappointed look plastered on her face.
“Uncle,” Spike said as Selina grasped the back of his shirt, burying her in his back. “Nice to see you made it. Sorry I didn’t wait for you to come home before leaving with Rarity. She needed help and-”
Tirek’s glare intensified.
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask permission! That’s what I meant to say.” Spike let out a soft laugh. He quickly silenced himself and swallowed a large lump that began growing in his throat before continuing his tirade. “It’s just you know, it was Rarity, and-”
His uncle slowly crept forward until he was about a foot away from the children. He looked down picked up the book Spike had been reading. “Hmm, Taboos of the World, good to see you catching up. I suppose this mean you’re prepared to levitate something as simple as a toy? A stuffed dragon perhaps?” Tirek lifted Selina’s toy and brought it over to himself, grabbing it with his claw.
“Levitation? Oh, right! That. Well you see, I… I couldn’t figure it out. I just moved on to reading because I didn’t want to waste more time than I already have.”
“It’s as good of an excuse as any I suppose. I assume you read up on than subject we discussed?” Tirek tossed the doll back onto the bed, as he began to circle Spike.
“Yes, but can we review it later?” Spike said, his eyes guiding Tirek towards his younger sister who was now burying herself in her brother’s back.
“Typical, using the annoy-Ah!” Tirek let out a shrill yelp as his mother grabbed hold of his ear and began to pull upwards.
“Tirek, calm down now,” Haydon said with a smile. “As you can see, Spike was studying, like you wanted him to. He was being obedient.”
“He’s not in my house-!”
Haydon gave her son’s ear another powerful yank, eliciting a second sharp yelp. “Tirek, he was doing what you wanted, and you’re frightening Selina again. What did I tell you not to do not five minutes ago?”
“She’s acting! Manipulating you into undermining my authority!”
Haydon looked at Selina and Spike who both watched in awe as their grandmother took control of their Uncle, whom even their father feared at times. Selina especially found the situation amusing. The smile that her granddaughter tried to contain seemed contagious, as Haydon was now struggling to keep herself from bursting out into giggles. She gave her son’s ear one last soft tug.
“What was that one for!?”
“That was for talking back! What do you want to say to your niece?”
Tirek glared at Selina, her smile receding as she sunk back behind Spike. “I apologize for not protecting your illusion of a fantasy world where everyone is happy-” Tirek let another yelp loose as Haydon switched to his other ear, giving it a powerful yank. “-I’m sorry for frightening you!”
“That’s better.” Haydon said, releasing her son from her grasp. “Selina, why don’t you play with Rarity for a little while?”
“Okay!” Selina darted off into a random hall, scampering on all fours. A poor habit for any lady to have, though, one that was unlikely to be broken anytime soon.
“Spike, I could use your help prepping dinner, if you don’t mind.”
“And if I say no?” Tirek said with a mumble.
“Spike,” Haydon repeated, sending a glare towards Tirek, “I could use your help prepping dinner, if you don’t mind. I seem to be losing my sense of time recently. I’ve started to overcook everything I put in the oven, and your uncle tells me that you bake your steaks perfectly. You can help your grandmother out, can’t you?”
You manipulative wretch, Tirek thought to himself.
“Of course I can help!” Spike said. There was nothing he hated more than biting into a rough, dry, and bland steak, something that a piece of well-done fillet always was. His uncle liked his steaks brick red and nearly bleeding. He and the rest of his family preferred medium cooks on their steaks, leaving them a beautiful violet on the inside. Spike paused as he looked towards his uncle and gave him a sheepish smile.
Tirek’s glare intensified for a moment. “Assist her however you can.” There was no woman in Arcania that was as vengeful as his own mother, and she tended to serve him the worst meals imaginable if it meant getting back at him. The part about overcooking food was obviously a threat not towards the children, but one made towards him. He could only imagine how disgustingly grey his steak would come out.
“Are you sure, Uncle?”
“Why don’t you ask the grand matriarch of the family?” He suggested dryly.
“Thank you Tirek! Finally, recognition of my authority.” Haydon said with a wide grin. “Come along now, Spike, you and I have much to do.”
Spike didn’t realize how much time had passed while he sat studying. It was almost six in the afternoon. Selina, as it turned out, had left his room several times as he studied, returning upon realizing that there was no one else to play with. According to his Grandmother, Rarity had made strides in her work and was free to play with Selina while they cooked. Knowing them, Rarity was likely teaching his sister how to apply makeup. He personally thought Selina to be a bit young for cosmetics, but his grandmother, Rarity, and Selina’s mother thought it fine.
His grandmother led him through the corridors of the mansion until they came to the kitchen. Being in the room again after so long flooded Spike with countless memories when he was a young child. Before she left, his mother often cooked for the family. His grandmother also explained it to him as if it was her job. “Your mother likes to work for her keep,” She had explained in a gentle tone. “I would just let her do what she wants. I’m sure that when we all sit down, she’ll be much less stressed than before.”
That never stopped Spike from doing small things to assist his mother. And just like that, there was a sudden tightness in his chest. As his Grandmother gathered the ingredients that she’d need cook, Spike seemed to freeze as his thoughts once again fell on his mother. Slowly, the regret from the previous night were drudged up the depths of his heart. Perhaps he’d been studying too hard and merely forgot. It happened all too often. He could hardly remember what day it was, let alone what his mother looked like. He still had trouble remembering the color of her eyes, and even her shade of pink. A loud thump earned his attention, as his grandmother placed a large sack of vegetables down on a small table.
“Spike, I just need you to peel the potatoes and then you can relax for a bit, how does that sound?”
“Sound’s good,” Spike said as he took a seat, his thoughts still lingering on his mother.
“Spike, is something the matter? You don’t have to help if you don’t want to, you were just cooped up in your room all day and-”
“I-it’s not that. I’m just tired.” It was a lie, and his grandmother knew it. Haydon had a habit of seeing through is lies with relative ease.
The gargoyle knelt at her grandson’s side. She put an arm around him and brought his head in so that it rested on her shoulder and in the crook of her neck. “I won’t make you tell me, but you know I’m here for you, right?”
“I know.” He nestled into his grandmother’s embrace. “Later tonight, can we bring up some of the pictures of Mom?” Spike asked. Spike felt his Grandmother’s embrace tighten, though he wasn’t sure why. She released him a moment later, allowing him to see her face. She wore a flat, emotionless expression, as if she was deciding something meaningless. He could feel the shift in the air as his Grandmother stood up and began to prepare the meat.
“The pictures of your mother?” She paused for a moment. She picked up a large knife, and slammed it down on a large cut of beef. She did this twice more, as sweet, little Selina liked her portions smaller than most, with each thawk growing in intensity. “I… I suppose that I could bring them out of storage if you want. Might I ask why?”
“I can’t remember what she looked like.” There was a small crack in his voice as he gripped at his knees. His body shook as small, voices in the back of his head asked him how he could forget his mother.
There was a sudden pain in her chest, alerting the gargoyle that Spike needed her. Haydon let out a sigh before moving herself in front of Spike. “I’ll… I’ll have Rarity bring them out of storage later tonight. Any ones that you have in mind? I have a few of her and you when you were a little baby, and, oh! One of my favorites were of her and you when you were just a perfect little egg! We hovered over you for weeks!” Her smiled had returned quickly as she talked about Spike when he was an infant. “Sometimes I wish I could go back to those days and have you all to myself.”
“Do you have one that’s of just her?” Spike already knew the answer to the question, but maybe his Grandmother had found something in the months he’d been away. A foolish thought to be sure, but one that he held onto. It was strange though, whenever his grandmother talked about his mother, she always managed to change the topic so it was about him, Tirek, or sometimes Sendak.
“Just-just your mother?” Haydon’s smile faltered a bit. She struggled to keep her tone high and her smile from falling any further, something that almost never happened. “No. I don’t. Not anymore at least. I’m sorry, Spike.”
“It’s fine. Do we have any that are in color? Paintings?” Paintings were terribly expensive, though his grandmother usually had a bi-yearly family portrait commissioned. Surely, she would have at least a few.
“I think I might have one, but it’s bit singed though. You had the sniffles that day and burnt a hole through her torso. Everything else is okay, though! And we do have that one portrait when you were four, but you were so fussy that day, you look miserable, poor baby. Oh I think I have my favorite in the attic! It’s of you when you were just a little hatchling, in your baptismal robes. You were the sweetest little thing! Oh, why do all my little babies need to grow up? That might take time bringing up though.”
“That’s okay! We can look after dinner, right?”
Standing, Haydon hovered over to the counter, where several cuts of filets sat. “Of course, after dinner.”
That promise brought just the smallest smile to his face. This time, he would be sure not to forget what she looked like.