//------------------------------// // Chapter 61 - Mending Hearts // Story: Bad Mondays // by Handyman //------------------------------// It’s one thing to run for your life, climbing and vaulting the uneven and broken ground of the underground in near pitch blackness with nothing but the light of a deer’s singular antler wrapped in a magical aura to guide you, casting alternating shadows of passing rocks, stones and stalagmites, tricking the eye into believing there were dangers passing them by. It was another thing to do all that with a cackling madman beside you. “Can you please stop laughing!?” Spike yelled, but the human was having none of it. “Oh that felt great! Did you see the claw shatter!? Wham! Chunks went everywhere!” Handy boasted. “Yes, it ahah, it was quite the sight,” Whirlwind agreed, laughing uneasily and halfheartedly. The stag did not look to be doing well at all and was casting nervous glances back at the lanky human. “Look! I see a light up ahead!” Spike pointed. There was indeed a thin sliver of light piercing the darkness around the corner, visible despite the glow of the deer’s antler. “Finally!” Handy said. “I hate being underground, I always have the worst luck underground. It’s always dark and cramped and there never seems to be enough headroom no matter how high those spiky rocky bastards dangle precariously over your head.” Spike looked up and sure enough there were quite a few stalactites looming just beyond the sphere of light Whirlwind gave off. They looked disconcertingly like rocky spears pointing at them from out of the gloom. He hurried his pace. Whirlwind was certainly looking worse for wear by the time the three of them managed to reach the end of the tunnel; his breathing was laboured, the magic of his horn was flickering and he was losing his steady gait. They turned the corner and sure enough there was a thin, diagonal exit into the open air, promising freedom. Spike was first across the line. His eyes widened and he let out a shout of surprise as he skidded to a halt. A moment later and would have went headfirst off of the short ledge and down the mountainside. Whirlwind was next and he all but collapsed on the ground beside the dragon. Handy didn’t stop. Handy didn’t even slow down. Handy just leaped. “Handy!” Spike called out but it was already too late. Handy had leapt out over the ledge side and plunged into the mire below, the ground and base of the valley covered in a thick fog of sickening brown and green billowing up from rents in the earth. He disappeared in that muggy distance, letting out a shout of surprise that turned into a torrent of laughter before it disappeared. “No…” Spike fell to his knees, claws digging into the stone below him. He let his head down and fell back against the rocks of the fissure that led into the mountain. He just looked up at the sky, eyes heavy and tired. He felt the familiar tight raspiness in his chest that would ordinarily summon a coughing fit but his throat was too dry and he was too tired to clear it. All he could do was lay there, Whirlwind wheezing beside him as the cold mountain air billowed and blew away the rising heat from the dragonlands. After some time Whirlwind managed to raise his head. He turned to Spike and offered a weary but bright smile. “I wouldn’t worry if I were you,” he said. Spike didn’t respond for a second before he registered he was being spoken to. “What?” “About Handy. Don’t worry about him.” “What? Why!? He just jumped off the side of a mountain!” Spike exclaimed and Whirlwind nodded. “Yes, and did you not notice his leg was broken before?” he asked. Spike opened his mouth to reply but held his tongue. “Hey, yeah… How did he run with that?” he asked. “I don’t pretend to understand how Handy works. I didn’t get to see him use much of his weird magic when he helped me out back home so almost everything I heard was second hoof. Long story short he can fix things like that. Sometimes,” Whirlwind said. Spike thought about that for a moment, and then recalled he had seen Handy seemingly come back from the dead after being dropped from the claw of a flying dragon. He also recalled it was not the first time ponies had thought he had died and came back. It was a ridiculous thought, surely he was just lucky or something. Well, that or he had Rainbow Dash’s luck of running headlong into things at impossible speeds and somehow coming out with nothing more than a fractured collar bone. The thought stuck however and he had to ask. “Can Handy come back from the dead?” he asked. Whirlwind coughed hard and groaned as it hurt his chest but couldn’t stop his laughter. “Are you mad!?” Whirlwind managed through the laughter and the odd snippets of his weird deer language he fell into. “No! A guy who could come back from the dead wouldn’t be so keen on avoiding death so often!” “But you just saw him jump off a mountain!” Spike insisted. “Yes I certainly did see that, but that just means I expect him to be a bit more bloodied, bruised and probably a bit more sober the next time I see him. Whatever madness that dragonblood gave him he’s… well he’s definitely not himself.” “Look, we can’t-!” Spike took in a breath to calm himself. “We have to go down there after him. He might need our help if he’s not-” “Right,” Whirlwind said, getting unsteadily to his feet and looking over the ledge and the surrounding mountainside. “How?” Spike followed his example and looked around him. All he could see were sparse handholds, definitely not easy for a quadruped to get down unless they were part goat or something. He shuddered at the thought. He considered the problem for a few minutes; he could easily get down there himself, but Whirlwind was exhausted, unsteady, and his magic was wavering. He looked down at his hooves where the obsidian chains still clung and a thought popped in his head. “Okay I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.” --=-- “I am surprisingly okay with this,” Laughed Whirlwind, dangling as he was by his forelegs, which were wrapped in the chains the dragons had placed on them, lashing him to Spike’s back as he struggled to gently lower the two of them down the mountainside step by agonizing step as he dug his claws into the rock. “I mean, apart from the chaffing, this is surprisingly restful… If I wasn’t looking straight down into a headfirst dive into the valley below all the time.” “Will you…. Plllleeeeaaasse…. Shut…. Up!” Spike managed through ground teeth. Sure, he was bigger these days, but that didn’t make the job any easier. The fact he was climbing downwards with somepony tied to his back only made it so much worse, and being reminded about how far down they’d fall if he placed one wrong step wasn’t helping. “Right, just saying…” Whirlwind said, continuing to not shut up. “Just a longer way down than I thought.” After a long, nerve-wracking climb down the mountainside, it finally levelled out enough that he could let Whirlwind down from his back and he could walk his own way down. Spike, arms now numb from the effort, started flapping his arms uselessly to try to get some life back into them and simultaneously wincing from the exertion. The gas was thinner near the ground where it spewed from the various rents in the Earth. The ground was actually a marshland, the stagnant water slick with grease, and iridescent to the eye. The sunlight diffused through the gas, creating a truly alien atmosphere as the world would be bathed sickly yellow near one vent, and pinkish-grey near another, and they could not see more than fifteen feet in front of them in any direction. The gas exacerbated Spike’s cough, such that he was forced to rip off what little remained of the coat he had worn to keep him warm during the flight to wear around his mouth. “Handy!” Spike called out, coughing, “Handy!” “Well… His body isn’t anywhere near the base, so that's the first bit of good news!” Spike gave Whirlwind a sideways glance for his blithe statement. They kept looking, stepping carefully through the marshy ground, the soil unnaturally soft compared to the rest of the dragonlands, more than once they had to help one another pluck their legs out of the muck and carry on. Eventually, Whirlwind stopped. “Well, we already went that way,” Spike muttered, “we know that way’s back towards where we came from because it's the only rent spewing green gas, so I’m thinking we should… Hey, you listening?” “Shh,” Whirlwind said. “Do you hear that?” Spike looked around, listening closely, he shrugged. “I don’t hear anything,” he said “Yes you do.” Spike jumped, whirling around and letting out a shout. He blinked in confusion as he realised there was nopony behind him. “What!?” Whirlwind bounded over beside him. “There was somepony just there! Just now, right behind me!” Spike said, his panicked voice subsiding into confusion when he saw nopony was there. “They whispered right in my ear.” “Over here.” They both turned around, again, nothing. “You heard that too, right?” Spike asked, Whirlwind nodded. “Handy?” Whirlwind asked after a moment of silence, ear flicking as he heard something. A smirk grew on his face and he turned around. “There you are!” “Ah, you spoiled it!” Handy said, having been sneaking up on the pair of them, carefully stepping on small stones amidst the muck to get across the mire. He was half covered in dirty water from his fall but had a large smile on his face. Spike’s eyes had widened when he turned to see him, since unlike Whirlwind he hadn’t heard him coming. “I was going to give you a spook.” “How were you doing that?” Whirlwind asked excitedly. “I didn’t know you can do that.” “Oh I can’t,” Handy admitted. He brushed off the bits of molten gold that had stuck to his skin and dried on his burned tunic, the centrepiece of the chain had sloughed off at some point and the water on his quickly drying tunic and cloak was coming off of him in waves of vapor. He held up two strange trinkets and drew one close to his face. It was a silver chain ending in an amulet shaped like intertwining leaves and inset with a small finely cut amethyst. He turned it over, revealing some script of a strange language none of them could read. “I don’t know what this is, but it's letting me project my voice.” “Like this!” Spike clapped his claws to his ears. He saw Handy’s mouth move, but his voice came through right next to his ear. “Quit it!” he protested, Handy laughed. “Oh I’m keeping this!” he proclaimed. He held up his other amulet, a humble affair of steel chain and iron centrepiece with an embossed image depicting a song bird singing and an eagle attacking a pile of rocks. “No idea what this other one does.” “Right, well, that's all well and good, but now what do we do?” Whirlwind asked. “I’d hate to bring down the mood but we’re still stuck in the middle of the dragonlands with no food, no shelter and no easy way out.” “Can’t you magic us out? Like that crystal you broke that brought us to the Greenwoods?” Handy asked. “If I had another one, then sure, no telling where in the woods we’d end up but yeah. I don’t though, so we’re stuck with me wintering us out of here.” “What?” “Wintering, it's hard to explain, it's something I can do now as Lord in Winter. It’s how I traveled so far so fast on my own,” Whirlwind explained, tapping the jangling portion of his crown of diamonds. “Well can you do it for us now?” Handy asked, standing still for once and not fidgeting when he heard they finally had a way out. Whirlwind gave him a friendly, if somewhat blank expression and slowly, for emphasis tapped his shattered antler, trying not to wince in pain at the sensitivity of it. “Pain is no excuse!” “I am also starving and exhausted. I can just about keep going but without several days’ rest and some recuperation, simply wisping our way out of here is out of the question for now. And while technically I have now fulfilled my purpose here, I am still relatively peeved at that mighty large dragon back there.” “Oh? You want to go back and fight her? Alright then, let's go,” Handy said, immediately jogging off towards the mountainside. Spike blinked. “Wait what?” “Hey stop!” Whirlwind called. Handy did, and turned to call back, “Why?” “We can’t fight her like this!” he said. Handy spread his arms wide in a questioning gesture, “I just explained I am starving and exhausted! I was rotting in a cell for a while there until you two came along!” “But you said you wanted to fight her,” Handy insisted. “Yes but not right now!” Whirlwind said. Handy simply shook his head in disbelief. “Well, then when?” Handy demanded. “I don’t know, maybe when we find some actual shelter and get some actual rest and not get kidnapped and put into a Dragon’s treasure trove?” Whirlwind said, his voice chipper but evidently strained. Handy just looked at him a few times, blinking. “Alright then, there’s a grove about a dozen yards or so that way,” he pointed. “Found it after I jumped. Clear air, fresh water, plant life, protection from the wind. Should do for a night or two.” Whirlwind and Spike just stared at him. “And you waited till now to tell us!?” Spike demanded. “Well yeah,” Handy replied callously. “We were busy talking about other things there in case you didn’t notice.” Spike threw up his arms and Whirlwind let out a breath. “Look, can you show us? For now? We’ll sort this all out tomorrow,” Whirlwind offered. “Fine,” Handy shrugged. --=-- Handy led them through the foul valley, over shallow crags, open vents in the Earth and small dead rivers of standing water. He seemed unusually sure of his sense of direction and Whirlwind commented that it was a change of pace from the last time the two of them were lost in a mist shrouded wilderness, to which Handy replied that it was not his fault he was the wrong race to not be messed around with by a magical forest. Spike opted not to ask. Eventually they emerged from the fog, revealing what Handy had been talking about. He had undersold it considerably. It was less a grove and more of a hole dug out of the mountainside, as if a great claw had dug into it and carved a portion out. The resulting formation was a yawning chasm in the mountainside, flanked by the sides of the mountainside that remained either side of it, hiding it from anyone walking along, or even on top of the mountain until they more or less stumbled right on top of it. The chasm was not merely empty space however. Raised like a series of plates stacked on top of one another were spring pools of hot water, uncountable years of built up volcanic minerals forming the walls of the pools before spilling over and forming more as they cascaded down the side of the sloping chasm into the much cooler lake at the base which fed into a small rivulet that went out into the wastes they had just come from. Steam from the source of the springs at the top of the chasm added to the overall fog of the valley behind them, hiding them from the skies but allowing significant sunlight to filter through. The grove was verdant. Grass, long and green sprang from the rich Earth, strange trees with ripe fruit grew where the sunlight was greatest and the water of the lake was so clear one could swear you were looking through a plate of glass. Whirlwind promptly plunged his head into the water and began drinking greedily, Spike followed suit soon after. Handy meanwhile found a sunny rock to sit upon and sat there, idly inspecting his looted treasures from Meranax’s horde. Spike rose to take a breath, falling back and breathing heavily he looked around him. “What is this place?” he asked no one in particular as he strolled around the lake. “I have no idea. Found it like this. Pretty sure there’s a volcano somewhere nearby,” he said. “Why?” Spike asked. Whirlwind gurgled as he continued to gulp up water and ignored his lungs’ need to breathe. Handy gestured up towards the top of the hot springs. “Caves up there, very hot, pretty sure I heard lava from further back in them. These springs are heated by a vein of lava beneath us somewhere I’d wager,” Handy explained. “Huh. Why’d you go up there anyway?” Spike asked, Handy shrugged. “It was cold out here, I went to where it was warmest.” At that, Whirlwind raised his head and cocked a scaly brow at him. “Ok now I know there’s something wrong with you,” Whirlwind said, Spike looked at him sideways. “What was your first clue?” “Hey, I’m cold, I can’t help it!” Handy said in his defense. “Handy, your clothes are literally burning on your skin,” Whirlwind said in a deadpan manner. Handy looked down at himself, before diving into the water with a scream. The two of them were momentarily taken aback by the extreme reaction. Both rushed over to help him before he emerged from the water, gasping. “Sorry just… didn’t notice that,” he explained. “How could you not notice? You are burning to the touch!” Whirlwind exclaimed. Handy looked down at his clothes. They were a ruin. Apart from all the wear and tear of the past few days, they were indeed singed and burned in places, with holes appearing in his tunic and pants. His cloak seemed to be the only thing that escaped most of the burning but was still singed around his neck. Handy, very briefly, felt very self aware and the rising apprehension and fear of fire rose up within him again before his reason took over and he put two and two together. “Holy shit…” he said at last, “I’m immune to fire!” “What?” Spike asked. “Uh, nothing, nevermind,” Handy deflected, putting a hold on his enthusiasm as soon as he realised who was listening to him. “It’s nothing, just… surprising.” “Why?” Whirlwind asked, Handy glanced at him. “Nothing, just, you don’t normally think of yourself as fireproof,” Handy answered evasively. Spike gave him a sceptical look but didn’t say anything further. “Right then, this good enough for you two? Lay low here for a while?” Handy asked, suddenly agitated. “I’m rather sick of this country of yours Spike.” “This isn’t my country, I don’t even think it technically counts as a country,” Spike answered. Handy shrugged it off. “Regardless, it's been fun and all, but we’re still getting out of here,” Handy said, “This entire thing has been a bust, we need to get back to my airship… If it’s still even there.” “I thought you wanted to fight Meranax with me?” Whirlwind asked, Handy blinked. “Oh right, and that too I guess,” Handy admitted nodding his head. Whirlwind looked to Spike. “Let's go home first,” Spike said. “Right, we’ll do that,” Handy agreed. “Nah, let's have a fight first,” Whirlwind said sardonically. Handy suddenly got up out of the water and moved towards Whirlwind aggressively. “Not a bad idea, I have to admit I am looking forward to a good fight-” “With Meranax! Meranax I meant!” Whirlwind said, suddenly backing away from the body of water. Handy stopped. “Oh right, I forgot about that,” Handy confessed, still knee deep in water. Whirlwind fell back exasperated. He threw up his forelegs in exasperation at Handy who simply shrugged at him. “What?” Whirlwind snorted and got to his feet and wandered over to a shady portion of the grove, munching away on the tall grass. Spike looked back at Handy, who had watched him go before returning to his own spot on the side of the lake. After a while of simply sitting down, relaxing and catching their breath, in which Whirlwind had passed out under the shade of a nearby tree, Handy, who had been fidgeting for the past hour, stood up. “I’m going up the hot springs, see if there’s anything interesting to find up there,” he announced, Leaving without another word. “Hey wai- Oh nevermind,” Spike said in exasperation as he watched him go, sitting back down where he was, stomach growling and idly tossing around stones to see if he could find even a fragment of quartz to munch on. Whirlwind simply snored. Handy climbed his way up the walls of the various hot spring pools. Each overflowing with water that spilled into the next one below them, until the water eventually gathered and cooled in the lake at the bottom of the open cavern. There were precious few spots to cling on to that were not soaking wet and treacherous but he managed to climb up using a few handholds. The heat of the water increasing as he went didn’t faze him. “Glad to be out of that cold,” he said to himself. “I couldn’t stand it any longer.” Eventually he made his way to the top, where the water geysered forth from a rent in the earth, where the pressure forced it up from some reservoir down below. He stood there, enjoying the spray of the hot water on his face for a time before moving on. Sure enough there was the opening cave mouth he had seen before. Pushing his way through it he followed the heat and the faint orange light, seemingly uncaring about finding his way back until he came to a stop near a hole in the ground. Sure enough it dropped straight down into a dark pit of magma far below. A part of him, a stupid part, was tempted to try out his new found fireproof ability, as temporary as it may be, and Handy found himself inching closer and closer to the edge, before a sensible part of him took control and made him reconsider. He turned back and went back the way he came. Much to his inevitable dismay, he was lost, and found himself wandering near aimlessly in the dark caves that pitted the mountainside. He swore to himself when he realised his predicament, but pushed on regardless. Eventually he found light up ahead and followed it. He came to a slightly larger cave tunnel with a hole in the wall, overlooking the hot springs from before. He was now a considerable distance away from where he had started and could see no easy way down. Sighing, he moved on and this time came to a larger cave with another opening to the outer air, This time to his left and facing away from the grove where his friends were. Curious, he went to investigate. The opening was rather large, and he could clearly see the skies beyond over the top of the miasma of the valley outside. In the distance he could see the obsidian volcano that the dragons had been keeping Spike and Whirlwind, just barely poking above the ridgeline he was looking over. More importantly he could see the sun and tell what time of day it is and which way was East, and which was West. That was helpful at least, now he just needed to find a way back down and- Handy had just enough time to look surprised by the time he saw the red dragon dive out of the sky and crash into him. The force of the blow sent him flying, end over end and landing hard against the floor and wall of the cave, cracking bones. He lost the grip he had on his hammer, he was dazed and he was confused but more than that he was angry. And elated. Pushing himself back to his feet he stilled his throbbing head and gave his body just enough time to heal the bones he broke on impact with the rock. His hammer was on the far side of the dragon from him. The dragon for his part, was staggered by his own botched landing and surprised to see Handy getting back on his feet. Handy spat the blood from his mouth, snarled and ran towards the dragon, roaring. --=-- The first sign something was amiss was when Whirlwind was awoken by the sound of Handy’s voice echoing from the caves up the hot springs. He woke up with a snort, ears flicking and twitching. Spike, who was basking on the rocks next to the lake, idly inspecting some black, glossy stone in his claw, having found barely anything to eat and looking fairly miserable for it, looked over to Whirlwind. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “I thought I heard-” He stopped looking up and seeing the dark forms of three dragons fly overhead, their shadows projecting through the cloud of mist. There was a empty patch in the sky and, it had to be just a chance, but one of the dragons had been looking down at just the right moment. And their eyes met. Whirlwind swore in the deer tongue and stumbled to his feet, still exhausted, he fumbled his way over to the drake. “We’ve got to go! We’ve got to go now!” he shouted, Spike pushed himself up. “What? Why?” there was an earth shaking impact behind him. Spike tentatively looked behind him and saw, to his horror, the smiling visage of Garble looking back at him. “Long time no see, twerp.” --=-- Handy was grabbed by the ankle, dragged, lifted off of the ground, swung overhead and thrashed against the wall, but still laughed, much to the dragon’s confusion. “COME ON THEN!” He bellowed in challenge. He forced himself from the wall, almost collapsing as his broken bones struggled to heal in time to allow him to walk, he picked up his warhammer and stumbled towards the dragon. The dragon, for his part, snorted, the scales of his face shot through with the corruption of the curse. It spread its wings wide and held its claws out from its body. It lunged for Handy, who allowed his weight to fall to the ground in a roll, falling under the dragon’s attack, rising and swinging his hammer around into its rear leg, knocking it out from under it. The dragon, off balance from the attack, fell to the ground hard, roaring in pain. It swung its clawed fist around and caught the rising Handy in the jaw, sending him spinning back to the ground. The confines of the cave, backlit and roasting hot from the magma further into the caverns, prevented the dragon from using the full range of its abilities, while maximising the advantages Handy held. It would be the exact, ideal situation Handy would look for while dealing with a dragon and hopped up on vampiric power. Which is why, to the dragon’s and everyone else’s bafflement, the first thing Handy did after clamoring up from where he had been knocked to the ground was to rugby tackle the dragon, using the full measure of his weight and strength to force the young dragon, still unsteady and rattled from the beating it had taken, straight down the cavern out onto the open cliff. And straight down into the hot springs below. Spike and Whirlwind looked on, mouth agape at the sight of the flailing pair plunging into the waters below them. Handy, now thoroughly dazed from multiple knocks on the head and splashed in the face with scalding hot water, rose from the water in an instant, gasping for air, blinking, blearily into the daylight. He coughed the water from his throat and lungs and grasped for his hammer. He grabbed the dragon’s tail. The dragon’s head emerged from the water in a roar, followed by a wing that clocked Handy across the skull and sent him careening backwards, over the lip of the pool and into the next one. The others, meanwhile, were having no easier time of it. Whirlwind fired a bolt of magic from his remaining antler, his broken one sparking dangerously all the while, into the pool, drawing an arc in the water and sending up a truly momentous torrent of steam that blinded the oncoming dragons, allowing him and Spike to dodge their swinging claws as they barreled through the wall of gushing steam. They were split apart, Spike leaping up the next level of the hot springs and running along the stone dividing the pools, Whirlwind heading down and around the dragons. The confusion didn’t last forever however, and with a mighty sweep of her wings, one of the dragons launched after Whirlwind, while the other two flew up after Spike. The two terrorizing Spike dived. One missed, hitting its head against the raised platform of the upper pool, cracking it and spilling its contents in a cascade of water, the other however, tackled him, grabbing onto him and lifting him up into the air. “Gotcha now you little twerp!” the dragon snarled, “You won’t get away this time.” It was then, struggling in the grip of the enemy dragon, coughing his lungs out and desperate, he looked at the discoloured scales on its arms, looked between him and the arms and let out a sigh. And bit down with all of his draconic might, cracking the heavily damaged scales and tearing into the poisoned flesh beneath. The dragon bellowed and flung his arm sending Spike flying across the cavernous expanse, landing in a large but shallow pool of boiling water near the top of the springs where the water was hottest. He skidded across the surface before finally coming to a stop. He rose, spitting and scratching his tongue, splashing the boiling water onto it, which was like little more than spring rain to a dragon. He hacked up and spat as much as he could, his face bearing a sickened expression. “I really don’t get the appeal in that…” Whirlwind for his part was running on fumes. Exhausted, battered and beaten, with barely enough rest to count for a short power nap, he was dangerously close to collapsing as it was. His hoof caught in an uneven divet in the pool wall and he was sent sprawling down into a narrow chasm between two pools. One dragon overshot him and the other landed hard, looked down at where the deer was stuck, drew its head back, opened its maw, and gathered fire in its jaws ready to incinerate him. Which was right when Whirlwind drove his antler as high up as he could, summoned as much magic as he was able and shot a blast of icy magic straight into the dragon’s mouth. The resulting backblast was spectacular. The dragon was blown back, smoke and steam trailing from its mouth and broken teeth sent flying. The dragon was left moaning, writhing in the pool, murmuring through its smoking mouth which it clutched at. Whirlwind wasted no time and continued his struggle to pull himself out between the two pools before the water drowned him, but his forehoof was stuck. The other dragon landed, this time right in front of him, where the chasm opened out to the lower pools, splashing him with hot water. He tried to summoned forth more magic but his antlers sparked. He was spent. The dragon smiled at him and Whirlwind could do nothing more than look on with dismay. --=-- Handy emerged from where he fell, gasping for air, his head suddenly much clearer and his recent behaviour bewildering to him while fresh in his mind. “What… What have I-” The dragon’s tail swung around, catching him in the stomach and hurling him back. He hit the pool wall hard and was dazed, his anger flared as the vampiric power healed the recent damage. “Whatever it is, it can wait.” He rushed forward, the dragon flailing in the water struggled to bring its wings to bear in order to take to the air. Handy, knowing his hammer was in the pool with the dragon, and still with the desperate bravado and adrenaline draconic blood gave him, dived over the pool wall and into the water. The dragon spat a burst of fire into the water, causing it to boil. Normally this would be something along the lines of an inconvenience for Handy, but as it was- His hammer erupted from the water and cracked against the groin of the dragon. The dragon  gave a yelp, his breath ceased and Handy emerged, breathing hard, skin scalded but otherwise unharmed. Handy hooked the hammer behind the digitigrade knee of the dragon, pulled and forced the dragon off balance and back into the water. He was about to give the finishing blow when he looked to see Whirlwind had fallen down between two pools and the dragons were descending upon him. He glanced down at the writhing dragon beneath him and made his decision. He hopped out of the water and began to make his hasty descent back down to Whirlwind, running along the walls untill he was almost there. The first dragon’s mouth exploded into smoke and steam and fell away from its perch above the downed Whirlwind. The second one landed not far away and was preparing to roast the deer. Handy just made it to the lip of the final pool ring above the dragon and Whirlwind. He swung his hammer around and flung it ahead of him. The hammer, hurled with vampiric strength, soared through the air and clocked the dragon between the eyes and sent him reeling. Whirlwind blinked as Handy landed in front of him. “Come on!” “I’m stuck!” Whirlwind shouted in response, panic in his voice. Handy looked down and saw that he had lodged his fetlock into some gash of rock. He was cut and bleeding too, forcing that out could make it worse. Handy whirled around just as the other dragon recovered and looked fairly pissed off, Handy’s hammer lay in the pool with the dragon and he placed his claw on it, denying Handy access to his weapon. Out of options, Handy tried the only thing left to him. He covered his mouth with both hands and, focusing on the artefact around his neck and an area just to the left and behind the dragon, he shouted. “HEY WANKER!” The dragon looked around, confused by the sudden shouting in his ear. It was only a second but when he looked back, Handy was gone. Something hard jumped up onto his shoulder, and grabbed around his neck and pulled up. The dragon, suddenly choking, grasped at his neck with his claws as the surprising strength of the human was closing off his windpipe. His claws scratched away at the human’s arms, tearing through the tatters of the tunic that he wore and cutting into the flesh. It was painful beyond reckoning but Handy simply screamed out the pain as he clutched tighter and tighter. The other dragons arrived. One, the dark red one Handy had been fighting first landed on top of the chasm Whirlwind was trapped in, and glowered at Handy. The other, whom Whirlwind had taken out, got up and snarled at the chasm which the first had stood over. The last, another red one with orange spines and a severe underbite landed not far off, yelling about the Drake. Handy was outnumbered, outgunned, and out of options. All he had left was this dragon’s life in his hands. They had Whirlwind’s. He was about to speak when a force gripped him bodily and tore him free from the golden brown dragon’s back. He felt himself plunge into the water and held there with powerful claws. He thrashed in the water in shock, screaming and losing air, he could not make out any of the shapes above him as he struggled uselessly in the water. Water began filling his lungs, he burned for breath, his eyes began blurring, everything felt like it was burning as his body was slowly starved of oxygen, his heart began pounding and his vision was fading. He panicked, more and more as the lights began to dim, his movements slowed and it became hard to think. He was suddenly pulled up, half dead and vomiting up water as he was held down against a spring wall. He coughed and struggled to see, he couldn’t move, whatever held him down had him held fast and he wasn’t going anywhere. A voice snarled into his ear. “Hello again, worm,” Onyx said. Handy froze. ‘Fuck,’ he thought. It was the only word he could summon up at the moment. “I said not to kill them!” a new voice demanded, he heard the other dragons grumble. A smaller, younger dragon came into view as she flew over heard. Azure blue, orange eyed with curling white horns around the sides of her head and covered head to toe in bandages. She landed not far away up above them. “And why not?” Garble demanded, Onyx growling in agreement. “I owe this one a lot,” Onyx said, lifting and then slamming Handy back against the pool wall. He shouted in pain as something cracked. “I’m beginning to side with the idiots,” The female Whirlwind had blasted said, looking up at Ember. “Yeah!” Garble said triumphantly, pausing for a second. “Hey wait a minute…” “I don’t care, I am not starting a war!” Ember said. “They already started it!” The one Handy had been choking before piped up. More dragons arrived, all of them young. The older ones seemed to be absent, thankfully. “The ponies are responsible for this, who else controls dreams!?” “Dreams?” Handy asked, Onyx pressed down harder on his back. Ember snarled, she carried a large, obsidian staff with an obscenely large blood red gem in its grip, almost the size of her head. She struck the ground with its base. “Silence! I need them for bargaining,” Ember said. “Do you honestly think any of them would be willing to trade a cure for these whelps?” Onyx demanded. “This one here is the dragonslayer. They sent him; what other message could they mean by it?” ‘Shit.’ Handy thought again, fearing saying it out loud would confirm the dragon’s suspicions. ‘Should’ve just said no and fucked off down South instead.’ Ember’s stare never faltered, but Handy could tell there was some conflict there. She was stalling them, but why? He tried to turn his head around, he could just barely make out Whirlwind’s antler poking out from the chasm where he was trapped. Still moving around, so he hadn’t drowned yet. Good times. She looked at him, and Handy swore under his breath. She narrowed her eyes but then turned back to the gathered dragons. “They will for Spike,” she said. Someone barked out a laugh and she shot them a venomous glance. “Princess Sparkle would make the trade.” “And what good would that do us!? It’s the Night Walker that caused this!” “No it is the Sun Raiser! She did this! It’s why our fire has turned against us!” “It was the false dragon! The Goat headed serpent!” “It is all of them!” The gathered dragons erupted into a clamour, so much so that Ember’s voice could not be heard over them as she tried desperately to regain control. Onyx looked down at Handy and snarled his anger, Handy felt the pressure on his back increase, he roared in pain until the breath was pushed from his lungs and then began gasping again. “QUIET!” Ember bellowed, she held her sceptre aloft and it pulsed angrily. A wave of magic washed out over the gathered dragons, all of them glowed briefly and then paused, remaining silent. Ember glared at them all. “You know I do not use my authority lightly, but I will not be disobeyed in this matter!” Onyx barked out a vicious laugh. “Then what, O mighty dragon Lord?” he challenged, “What do you suggest we do? What can we do? There is none else to blame! There is no other who could be responsible for it!” “We have the deer here! He is with the human! He brought the Princess’ pet lizard! What else is there to draw from this?” The golden brown one argued. Ember had no answer for that. “If… you’d… let us tal-” Onyx pressed down harder on his back, shutting Handy right the fuck up. She looked down at the arguing dragons who were coming around to the evidence in front of them. Ember’s authority was no longer challenged by unruly shouting, but the gathered dragons were agreeing with each other more, supporting each other’s assertions in front of her. Careful not to justify her ire. Ember was not having an easy time answering them with her insistence on using the three of them as bargaining chips. Slowly, she began looking between the struggling Whirlwind and Handy, and Handy was wise enough to realise what must be going through her head. ‘She’s going to sacrifice one of us to the baying mob.’ Handy thought, which he wouldn’t put it past the dragon to do. What surprised him was that it was taking her this long to make up her mind. She raised her sceptre again, looking between the two, grinding her teeth. Handy closed his eyes. “WAIT!” Ember turned and all the gathered dragons glared at the small purple dragon holding aloft a small black stone. He stood a ways off from the rest of them, the lanky purple drake looked rough in his tattered coat, splattered with blood. “It wasn’t the ponies,” he said walking towards her. Ember did not answer, but the dragons below erupted in protest. “I SAID SHUT UP!” Spike bellowed, holding the black stone aloft. Unfortunately his cry caused a few of them to take to the air and land on either side of the dragon lord, ready to pound Spike into oblivion for his challenge. Spike for his part, didn’t waver and strode forward. “But I know who it was,” he said as he neared the dragon lord. Ember was still taller than Spike, though not by much anymore, but her wings increased her presence considerably over him. Spike saw her haloed by the sky, her face framed by her horns and shadowed by her outstretched wings. Her eyes stood out all the more for it. He almost hesitated. “Well?” Ember demanded, her face partially covered in bandages, it was painful to see her like this. “Let's hear it, if you have anything to say.” “Why are you entertaining this pony pet?” Garble demanded. “If he had any proof he would have provided it the last time you saw him.” “I didn’t know who caused it then,” Spike answered, not even bothering to look at Garble. He offered the black stone to Ember. Ember didn’t take it, not immediately. She plucked it quickly from his claws and looked it over. “And this is?” “A piece of a dragon’s claw,” Spike explained. “The one who is really responsible for the Curse of the Candle.” “What?” Ember asked softly, the dragons gathered around her murmured. Handy and Whirlwind trapped where they were, couldn’t really make out what was being said. “Oh no, don’t hurry yourselves or anything,” Whirlwind managed between gulps of water. “I can wait.” “Shut up you,” the red dragon hissed down at him. Ember looked the claw over in her own for a minute before curling her talons around it, she glared at Spike. “Who?” she asked, her voice an arctic chill. “A dragon called Meranax,” Spike said, and there was a ripple of outrage throughout the gathered assembly. “She stayed here when all the elders fled the land. She’s still with her horde, you can find her down there if you don’t believe me.” Ember looked between the rock and Spike. “What proof do you have of this?” She demanded. Spike looked at the chunk of dragon claw in her hand for a moment, he took a deep breath and looked at the bloodstone sceptre in her grip. His pupils reflexively dilated as he laid eyes on it. “Touch the chunk to the sceptre,” he said, “and we’ll see.” “Are you mad?” A dragon to her right intervened. “If what you say is true, why would we let a part of her touch the sceptre again?” “Because the sceptre has power over her,” he said. “As it does over all of us in our bloodline. My fire is out, I don’t know why, that's why the effect is less on me, it’s also why I don’t have the curse. It’s how I avoided it without being an exile. She tried to do something with it last year, she wanted to become truly immortal.” “Immortal?” Ember asked under her breath looking at the sceptre. “But the sceptre is made with powerful magic, magic tied to our bloodline, like the other dragon lineages have similar artefacts. Something our ancestors did way back when for who knows why. Magic old and powerful enough that it resonated with things a continent away.” Spike pointed down at Whirlwind. “I don’t know the full story with him, of his home, but there is powerful magic there, that was touched somehow when Meranax tried to subvert the sceptre for herself.” “This is all impossible!” Ember suddenly spat. “The Sceptre never leaves my side!” Spike raised a brow. “Really? Not even when you leave the dragonlands?” he asked. Ember’s eyes widened at him and he realised his mistake. “The Dragonlord leaves the sceptre?” one asked. “Can she do that?” “What does that mean?” Spike winced, and Ember gave him a reproachful look. “I always make sure the sceptre is safe,” she insisted. “No dragon can take it from my claws against my will.” “True,” Spike said quickly, trying to brush over his mistake as quickly as possible. “Which was part of the reason why Meranax couldn’t mess with the sceptre. It’s why her attempt backfired.” “What?” Garble asked, having climbed up onto the next layer of the hotsprings. “The curse was not intentional, its a result of her attempts to use the sceptre’s power wrongfully,” he said. “You know we are all bound to obey the power of the sceptre when it’s used, but only sparingly. No dragon can take it from the dragonlord without being cursed by it. Meranax thought her magic could overcome it. It could not.” “But why did the curse spread to the whole bloodline?” A purple dragon Spike hadn’t seen in years asked. He shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe it's because of how old she is, maybe it has to do with how her magic interacted with it. I do know is that if we use her essence on the sceptre, the sceptre will pass judgement on her.” “How do you know all this?” Garble demanded. Spike just looked at him. “You know why, Garble.” Garble backed down at that when everyone turned to look at him. Spike looked back at Ember. “But I know the parts about Meranax because she was stupid enough to tell us, we just barely escaped her. The sceptre can’t be taken by another dragon, but it can be given by another dragon, by either deed or word. It's how Ember got the sceptre in the first place from her dad.” Ember glanced sideways briefly, but said nothing. Spike pointed to the chunk of dragon claw in her hand. “Just do this, trust me on this, Ember,” he said. Ember looked at him, and he saw the hurt in her eyes, he closed his for a moment, then opened them and met her gaze. A long silence passed between them. And after a moment’s hesitation, she lifted up the black chunk towards the sceptre, all eyes were on her in that instant. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, she touched the chunk to the Stone. And the sound like a bell made of crystal resounded throughout the open cavern. And time itself seemed to stand still. --=-- “HYYURRRRAAAGGH!” Meranax clutched her chest. Her heart had jumped and she fell back on her horde, thrashing about in her armour, centuries of treasure was destroyed and tossed aside, some lost forever as she writhed in agony. Pain so awful it pierced her lungs like thorny vines in every air sac rolled across her body from tip to tail. Her vision swam, she couldn’t breathe nor scream, the pain was so unbearable she almost couldn’t think. She felt her blood on fire for a moment before it became unbearably, icily cold. She knew this was going to happen. She knew eventually it was possible, she hoped it would be. She looked at where she had hidden the armoire which not too long ago she had so carefully inspected and made sure was safe, covering it up again. Maybe it was too little too late, maybe it was a foolish action, maybe it won’t be enough to undo the harm she had done in her selfishness. But it was the right thing to do, and she could do it now, when she chose not to do it then, so long ago. She wondered if she’d see her there. If there was anything to see at all. Looks like either way, she wouldn’t find out what's really up North after all. “I’m sorry,” she said at last, the pain finally turning to numbness. “Forgive me.” And then everything was still. --=-- They stayed in the dragonlands two days longer after all was said and done. The dragons, thankful to the little dragon they had so long derided had taken them gratefully back into their midst once their nightmares and curse had been cured. Meranax was found later, after much searching and before much digging into her horde. There was no set rules in the dragon law regarding the horde of a dead dragon short of it going to their young, if they were strong enough to get to it first. Ember had intervened and allowed a somewhat organised dispersal of her treasure. It would still take over a week to sort it all out that way, but it was better than causing a mad scramble and this way the younger dragons could add to their horde before the elders realised the situation was over and returned to the dragonlands. It was also around that time, in much more friendly quarters, they finally came around to sorting out the very problem they had came here to solve in the first place. “I have to do, WHAT?” Spike demanded. Handy’s face was in his hands and Whirlwind, who had yet to understand the significance of what had just been said, simply looked at Spike in confusion. “Meat,” Ember said. “You have to eat meat.” “I don’t- I mean- I have never-” Spike spluttered. “All this time, all this trouble, all of this because of some dietary mistakes!?” Handy exclaimed. “It’s more than that,” Ember began to explain. “Dragons don’t live on gems alone. Sure, they taste delicious and it makes us strong, but without meat you can’t grow and develop properly.” She flapped her wings for emphasis. Spike blinked. “I just thought I was a different kind of dragon!” he explained. “I mean some ponies have wings and others don’t, I thought-” “That all this time dragons worked like ponies do?” Ember asked with a raised brow, before snorting in amusement. “You really have been hanging around ponies too long.” They were in a carven room inside the volcano, it was pleasantly warm with an opening leading outside which let enough fresh air in to make it breathable. Whether it was a personal choice or Ember was making concessions for the non dragons in the room, Handy could not guess. Spike seemed to withdraw at the comment, and Ember reacted as if she had stepped on a landmine and quickly moved on. “Anyway, you need to eat meat to keep yourself right, the gems help with our more magical needs.” “Magical… needs?” Spike asked. “Yes, needs, not just power,” Ember explained, “And we need to eat properly to keep ourselves healthy. It's no wonder you’ve been so sick for so long. Of course the opposite is true if you don't’ eat enough gems, and eat too much ordinary food, your scales will weaken and begin flaking off at the nearest touch. That comment drew Handy’s attention. He recalled the dragon he had fought so long ago at the tournament. He recalled how much armour it wore and how strange that was even for a young dragon. And how easily the scales came off. Flaking off even, caught between the grooves of the designs on his armour after he fought him. That actually explained a great deal, even if he wasn’t from the same bloodline as Spike. Handy could actually recall that now that his head was cleared from the immediate rush of the dragon blood, not that getting knocked about hadn’t helped. He’d have to be more careful in future if he ever got dragon blood again, that lack of clear headedness could easily get himself killed. Spike sat down. “And all this time, I thought it was just something I had to deal with.” Ember smiled at him. “Well now you can get better at long last,” she said. Spike returned the smile. “Yeah. Yeah thanks. I had no idea it’d be something so simple,” he said. “I wish you did, you could have saved us a lot of trouble if you did,” Handy said. “Well.. I’m glad you came when you did,” Ember said. Whirlwind, sensing the tension between the two, let out a yawn and got up. “Welp, glad that's settled, my work here’s done too as far as I am concerned. I’m going to go for a walk before the Airship gets here. Come on Handy,” he said, nudging Handy on his way out. “What?” he said, but Whirlwind merely inclined his head for him to follow. Handy, irritated, nonetheless followed him out. Leaving the two dragons alone. The two sat there in silence for a while, not saying anything. Before long however, Spike sighed. “Sorry, Ember. About-” “I know,” she said. “It was my fault, I shouldn’t have pressed the matter.” “No, you don’t understand. I was stupid back then, holding a candle that had long since burned out,” he said, she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, I shouldn’t have said those things I did about the ponies. They were your family, they raised you, I was in the wrong back then,” she said. She took off the bandages about her face revealing how far the candle curse had caused her scales to fall off, being the closest to the blood sceptre and among the youngest of the bloodline had made her symptoms worse than even the youngest hatchlings. Thankfully, none of them had succumb, and were well on their way to mending. But Ember had suffered greatly for her closeness to the sceptre. Her flesh had healed now, but the scales had yet to come back and be replaced, so he saw her face, both with and without her scales. His heart broke for her. “And if they hadn’t raised you to be the dragon you are, I don’t know what would have become of the rest of us. Thank you Spike, for everything.” Spike looked at her downcast features and for the first time in his life felt ashamed, truly ashamed for what he had let go all that time ago. He sucked in a breath, and got to his feet. Ember looked up in surprise when she felt her claws being taken by his. He smiled at her. “And if you had not been as wonderful as you are, you would not have let me help.” --=-- The airship finally arrived. It turns out Silvertalon hadn’t abandoned him after all. He had in fact been trawling the surprisingly empty Dragonlands searching for him. Traveling by Twilight when his ship was harder to see and there were less dragons in the air, and hiding his ship by covering it with nets with ground dust spread across old leathers on top of them during the day. After a rather frightening encounter with a pair of friendly dragons, he was eventually convinced to come pick his passengers up at the Obsidian Volcano, after a guarantee of safe passage of course. The three of them met Silvertalon with much enthusiasm, Handy practically bear hugging the poor old griffon half to death before they all finally boarded the ship. Handy immediately regretted his decision to let Whirlwind on when the excitable deer went to and fro on the ship to this room and that, commenting on everything and irritating the hell out of Silvertalon, who was definitely not used to such reckless abandon on his ship. Spike strode past him, standing taller and walking more confidently than he had ever seen him. “You’re acting a lot brighter,” Handy commented as he passed him in the corridor. “Hm? Oh nothing, just really glad that's all over and done with,” he replied, laughing nervously. Handy narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. “I take it you’re eating meat now?” He asked. “Yeah, it uh, it’ll take some getting used to,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “But I like the taste!” “Damn straight you do,” Handy said. “I don’t think Twilight will be too happy about it though.” “That’s her problem then,” he commented, letting Spike go. He noticed briefly how Spike seemed to not just walk a bit taller, he seemed to have actually gotten a bit taller. Noticing how his shadow passed the rivets in the wall of the hallway in the noon day sun. He pushed the thought aside as dragon nonsense. He did however notice his own shadow seemed to also have become an inch taller as well, he looked down at his shoes. No, he wasn’t wearing his boots so that couldn’t be it. He shrugged it off and went to the bridge. “Silvertalon.” “Sir,” Silvertalon responded, “where to?” “Guess we’re heading back to Equestria,” he said, looking over to the charts at the navigation table. “No wait!” Spike called out, suddenly running back down the main hallway to the bridge. “Not Equestria! The Crystal Empire!” he said. Handy frowned. “What, why?” he asked. “Twilight said she’d be going there not long after we’d leave from Ponyville. She’s likely still there right now and it’d make more sense for us to fly straight there than anywhere else.” Handy waved it off. “Right, fine, whatever, the crystal empire it is. Silvertalon?” “Aye, taking us to the empire.” He said turning to his wheel and the innumerable contraptions and valves and levers that controlled the airship. Handy briefly prayed he had did all the repairs he needed when he had the time while looking for them in the dragonlands, he remembered the emergency shut down he had done and it was not a fond recollection. “You have fun with that, I’m going to sleep in a proper bed for once.” With that he left them, passing by Whirlwind’s cabin as he did. The deer was enthusiastically busy inspecting the porthole window of his cabin as the ship began to lift off. “You know, I never actually flew by airship before, this feels weird. It’s so exciting!” he commented. “Yeah well, that passes, by the way don’t touch the exposed piping, it’s all hot water and it’ll scald you,” Handy said as he moved on from the room. “What? Oh right, thanks Handy,” he said turning back to the window. Handy frowned. “You know you’d get a better view from the Bridge, it has a full frontal window,” he said. “Really? Thats sounds amazing!” Whirlwind said as he passed by Handy on his way to the bridge. Handy watched him go before turning back to his room. As soon as the door closed behind him he let a huge sigh, feeling his tiredness in spite of the invigoration his blood high had given him, after all the beating he took and several days passing by, he was losing most of it. He looked over at his bed longingly. He sat down at it, and before lying back he pulled open a drawer and pulled out the flask of blood he had won as payment off of Twilight. He had earned it by now, and a part of him eagerly wanted to test it. The more tired part of him won out in the end and he placed it back in the drawer, pushed it in and lay back to sleep. He stared at the wooden boards above him contemplatively as the ship rattled and shifted as it took to the sky in the familiar but comforting rocking of the airship at sail. He let his exhaustion flow out and for once, without worry, and without the need of medicine, he drifted off to sleep. The Crystal Empire, he thought to himself as he drifted off, was future Handy’s problem.