//------------------------------//
// Where There's Smolder, There's Fire 
// Story: A Magic Turn of Events 
// by Comma Typer 
//------------------------------//

“Wait, my dog’s glowing? Why?!”
“Everyone, stand back!”
And the glow disappeared.
As an orange dragon stood up on her two legs, head throbbing at the pain as she scratched it with her claws. “Ugh. Did I m-miss anything?”
She rubbed her eyes then opened them, re-seeing the motel room they were in. She saw, in that room, the friends of her master all turned into a variety of creatures: Silverstream the hippogriff, staring at her with a mouth as wide as a couple apples; Yona the yak, shivering at being before a real life dragon; Gallus the griffon, keeping his distance by backing away.
Sandbar, the pony closest to her, put up his defenses by laughing nervously before shouting, “D-Did you just talk?!”
Smolder the dragon furrowed her brows. “What?”
Silverstream gasped, putting a claw to her beak. “She did it again!”
“Did what?” Smolder asked.
Then, she gasped, too, realizing what she just did.
“What?! What’s happened to me?” She looked around, frenzied in swinging her head around. “What’s going on?!”
“You became a talking dragon,” Gallus said matter-of-factly though now backing up to the wall.
“T-Talking?! Dr-Dragon?!” Smolder put her claws on her face and then rushed over on four le—no, two legs and two claws to Sandbar. “Don’t you worry, Master! I’ll still keep you safe until we all turn back to normal!”
Sandbar bared his teeth, puzzled by such an obedient dragon. “Uh...OK?”
Then, Smolder yelped, feeling the pain in her head. “Agh?! Wh-What’s—”
And Sandbar wrapped a hoof around her, not knowing what to do. “Are you alright, Smolder?! Are you OK?!”
As the rest inched towards her, taking quiet steps to not disturb the dragon nor to break the vases and the lamp.
Smolder then nodded, a cool and minty sensation coming down on her head. “Y-Yeah…?”
Gallus sighed, glancing at the clock on the desk. “OK, we have to drive to Canterlot now. Staying out in the open’s no good.”
“But what if Canterlot is burning?!” Silverstream yelled, thinking about an entire city up in flames.
“Canterlot is n-not burning,” Yona spoke up, voice shaky against her broken grammar. “Canterlot has m-magic ponies. Ponies keep c-c-city safe.”
Sandbar then proceeded to bite his hoofnails.
Gallus raised a brow. “Alright, but do we still have to pay for room service?”
“I’ll pay!” Sandbar yelled, rushing to the door and yanking it open, almost breaking the knob. “Smolder, everyone! Let’s go!”
So everyone rushed out of the room, leaving it unkempt and messy.



The trip back home was a long one, lasting the rest of the afternoon and running well into the evening—it was during this trip that they’ve received the news about their world staying the strange way it is, with no way to turn back to their old human selves (and dog self for Smolder). When they reached Canterlot at night, they found Yona to be right for the most part. A few fires raged on, but a couple of pony firefighters from Equestria had come to the rescue, spraying the blazes with their hoses from their fire wagon.
After agreeing to spend the night at their respective houses to take care and be taken care of, they parted ways, all wondering about Ocellus’s whereabouts. Perhaps she was staying at her house, too.
Sandbar and Smolder said nothing on the last stretch home. They saw a couple of their friends in new forms, mostly pony ones, struggling to walk, fly, use magic….
Spitfire almost crashed into them, veering back up with her wings. She screamed an echoing “Sorry!” at her would-be victims.
A doorbell later, Sandbar was back in the embrace of his family, all of them having turned into Earth ponies. He was overwhelmed with an unending string of questions—”Are you alright?”, “Are your friends safe and sound?”, “Is that thing Smolder?!”
“Yes, Mom,” Sandbar said, pointing at the dragon who waved at them.
All Smolder could muster was, “Uh, hi?”
That was enough to make the mare faint.
The father could not help but chuckle at his wife’s predicament. “She gets turned into a pony, figures out her magic tricks, but it’s a talking dragon that does her in. Like she doesn’t even remember when we watched The End of Dragons II!”
Sandbar made his nervous laugh once again, wondering how his Dad was taking this all so easily.
He looked at his baby sister, now a foal trotting around and looking at him with those cute eyes.
The father looked her way, too, as he pondered on what she might be thinking now. After that bout of thought, he looked back at Sandbar and placed a firm hoof on his shoulder. “Well! It looks like you’ve gotten over the pony blues hours ago. In case you’re hungry, there’s some canned carrots and corn in the fridge.” He then noticed his son’s hooves. “You know how to open fridges with those, right?”
Sandbar took a step to the side. “Practice makes perfect!”
“Good, good,” as the father smiled. “Always looking at the bright side.” Then, turning to Smolder. “As for you...I really don’t know!” His smile turned into one of desperately looking for advice to share. “We now have a pet dragon, and it doesn’t feel right to have you as a pet since, uh, we’re now animals and other creatures.”
The tone of that statement made Smolder shudder. “A-Are you...are y-you’re releasing me?”
Sandbar gulped, too, staying by her side and giving her half a hug.
“It’s your choice,” said the father, putting a firm hoof on Smolder, too—weirded out by having to give a pep talk to a former dog. “You can go out on your own, or you can stay with us as part of the family. Either way, you can talk, and it turns out you’re quite smart. In fact, all the dragons we’ve met were quite smart.” The father laughed nervously, proving that the nervously laughing apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree. “You can live your own life, th-that’s what I mean.”
And those words stuck in Smolder’s mind as Sandbar led her to the dining table, mindlessly walking her way there and sitting down on the wooden chair.
As for dinner, it ended with Smolder eating canned salad sprinkled with Mom’s earrings, much to the pony’s surprise after she woke up later that night.



Past five A.M. Tuesday. The day after the disaster.
Sandbar groaned, tired despite having a full night’s rest. He untangled himself from his blanket and got out of bed, trying to use his legs to reach the floor.
Reminded he was a pony when his hindlegs were too short, making him fall with a thud!
“Agh!” and rubbed his hurting hoof. “Ouch! That’s not good!”
“Let me help you!”
Sandbar arched and gripped the claw. “Thank y—Smolder? What’re you doing up so early?”
In the darkness, Smolder was holding up a lit matchstick, casting a glow around her. This light revealed her pensive frown. “I’ve been thinking.”
Sandbar still rubbed his sore hoof, easing the twinge. “Thinking about what?”
Smolder sat down on the floor, keeping the match aflame with a little fire wheeze—making Sandbar muffle a scream with his pillow. “That’s the thing. I’m thinking.”
Knowing where this line of thought was headed, Sandbar sat down—or, well, tried to, bending his four hooves but hurting a joint or just looking awkward. Smolder watched him try to sit down, until, finally, he got into a comfortable enough position, his hindlegs scrunched and his forelegs rested.
Only then did he simply ask, “What’s bad about it?”
Smolder tipped the match to the side with her thumb, trouble clouding her judgment. “Everything’s bad about it.”
“Why?” asked a bewildered Sandbar, raising both forehooves to his cheek. “Don’t you like thinking? I mean, you and me, doing stuff together like true pals! If you can think like me, you can imagine all sorts of cool stuff!”
“Yeah,” Smolder said with a listless tone, rubbing her scaly orange elbow. “I can do that and it’s pretty cool, but,” throwing her claws down and opening her wings, “it’s a lot to think about. I-I can’t just run around like the dog I used to be, obeying your every order.”
She stood up, looking him down with that faint match in her claw. She noticed the flame flickering, so she kept it alive by blowing another breath of fire onto it.
Looked into his eyes with hers, her razor dragon eyes mirroring the burning brightness before her fanged mouth.
“I need your orders, Sandbar,” her voice rising. “Doing my master’s bidding is what I’ve been raised up for, and if you just let me go—” threw her claws limp in the air “—what’s the use?”
Having finished her short speech, she sat back down, holding on to her match.
Sandbar looked down at the wooden floor, ignoring the little fire. He wasn’t worried about his former pet burning his house down. Instead: “But don’t you like being free? Being able to do whatever you want?”
“Yeah...that freedom scares me!” Smolder trembled, hugging herself in fear. “So many questions, so many choices, so many responsibilities—it’s like a sand box but made of quicksand! Wh-What if I make a choice that makes you angry or upsets you?”
Sandbar raised his hoof to pat her on the head, but he refrained. That wouldn’t help his point. “You don’t have to think about me all the time, Smolder. You can think for yourself and that’s fine by me!”
“But what if thinking for myself isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?” Smolder proposed, passing her match from left to right. “Like I said, what if I anger you or upset you? I don’t want to see my master disappointed in me...I-I don’t know if my heart will survive seeing you sad because of me.”
That’s when it hit Sandbar.
The time when he bought her from the pet shop over half a year ago. When he introduced the fiercesome canine to the family. When he took her out for her first walk in the city. When she did everything he told her—to sit, to roll over, to play dead, whether to see her loyalty or just for fun.
He remembered her as his best friend, just as any dog should live up to the title of man’s best friend.
Then again, the best could be made better….
“Actually?” Sandbar began, standing up, “I’m so happy to see you grow like this!”
He hugged her.
Caught by surprise, Smolder gasped, then cut the gasp short to avoid singing his mane. She slowly pat him on the back in that awkward embrace.
“You were great as a dog,” Sandbar continued in his laid-back accent, yet sounding bolder than before. “But there was always something missing. You didn’t understand me a lot, I certainly didn’t understand your barks and ruffs. I couldn’t bring you to no-pet zones, you couldn’t really enjoy parties because it was just me and my friends, and there’s tons of other stuff we couldn’t really do when you were a dog.
“But now?” He pulled himself a little away, just enough to see Smolder’s quivering face, trying to form a semblance of a smile. “Only time will tell how awesome we’re gonna be together!”
Smolder choked, gripped her throat, trying to stop the tears.
She pinched the match, snuffing the flame.
In the darkness they hugged as she cried.
Sandbar the master, no more. In his place left Sandbar the friend.
As the light slowly turned on, the curtains no match for the rising sun.



The days after were fun ones. The family of ponies was spiced up with the new yet not-so-new dragon, their former dog now able to participate in dinner chat. She even chimed in with her own albeit naive opinions on whatever was the headline at the moment.
Where did they get their headlines? The television, though most channels were decommissioned for the time being; also, the ponies had to practice using a remote with no fingers—they were a little envious of Smolder who could use, flip, and spin the remote with ease. When that pony difficulty was gotten over with, they could watch what was left of the networks which were the news and the emergency messages channels, the latter being automated instructions via robotic-sounding voices. As for the former, they proved to be a comedy show as reporters, cameracreatures, whoever’s on the street—all these fumbled and bumbled on screen. In particular, the whole family laughed at a couple of arguing changelings completely ignoring their jobs as reporters. The debacle ended when their boss, a deer, trotted in and told them all to be quiet.
Outside, as Canterlot was recovering from the catastrophe, Sandbar and Smolder often walked side-by-side. They met many of his other friends, most of whom had turned into ponies like him. Among them was Twi who was busy instructing new unicorns in the art of casting spells—oh, and there was Sunset, too. The prospect of meeting this pony as her old pony self was intriguing since it led to an enlightening discussion on how ponies lived.
They also met Equestrian natives who had arrived on Earth through the portal. One of them was Princess Twilight Sparkle who was on break, cooling off at a coffeehouse. The encounter was an amiable one even if short.



“Hey there!” Twilight greeted as Sandbar and Smolder entered the establishment, a steaming cup of coffee at hoof.
The place was, first and foremost, a cozy and homely coffeehouse. Courteous baristas despite their new pony bodies, paintings and tumblers despite many of them being out of hoof’s reach, comfy furniture despite the chairs not suited for quadrupeds—all this were surrounded by the strong pervading aroma of freshly brewed coffee. An energizing scent she’s rediscovered, Smolder’s eyes dilated at the smell of it. She rushed over to the open bags of coffee beans by the counter, cupping the seeds in her claws and inhaling their enticing scent.
Sparkle giggled, seeing the tag-along pony go to her side. “You’re Sandbar and Smolder, huh?”
Both pony and dragon gulped at hearing their names. “How’d you know?” they asked together.
The alicorn rolled her eyes in a smile, nudging her coffee away as she spun around on her swivel chair. “You know how there’s two of me? You have your Twilight, student at Canterlot High, and then you have me, Princess of Friendship.” She glanced to the side. “Wow, that sounded arrogant!” Then, turning back to them, “Our world has a Sandbar and a Smolder, too!”
Sandbar stepped forward, eager to hear more about his other self. “Do you know them?”
“Know them? Pfft!” and Sparkle twirled a hoof around. “I teach them!”
“...teach?!” pony and dragon yelled in unison.
Garnering suspicious looks from the other customers there.
Twilight rolled her eyes again, now at the casual disturbance. “I’m here to help your world out, not to self-advertise. However, I also run the School of Friendship and your Equestrian selves study there.”
Smolder raised a finger to get her attention. “I was born a dragon there, right?”
Twilight nodded. “That’s right!”
Smolder made a fist out of her claw, inspired. “That would be so cool! Meeting a real real dragon! C-Can we go?”
Sandbar let out a long “Ugh...” in order to prompt her away from that idea.
To give herself time to think, Sparkle took a sip of her coffee. She put the cup down, wiped her mouth with her wing, then said, “I’d love to, but every country here’s already having a hard time with, um, change.” Sweetening the mood like the sugar in her beverage, “But I promise you, I’ll do my best to ensure convenient portal travel within the year...or something like it. That a deal?”
Sandbar and Smolder nodded, silently agreeing.
Then, the entrance opened, ushering in a familiar cast of characters for the Earth pony.
Sandbar turned his head and stopped breathing for a second. “Guys!”
Gallus, Yona, Silverstream, and Ocellus waved their forelimbs at him, Yona being more than polite enough to close the door.
“There you are!” Silverstream screamed, swooping in to attack Sandbar with a hug.
Gallus flew over to the enthusiastic hippogriff. “Slow down! We wouldn’t want you to hospitalize him, too.”
“It was an accident!” Silverstream argued, smiling with confidence in her version of events. “Besides, he wasn’t hospitalized! He was put inside an ambulance!
“...to be hospitalized,” Gallus cut in.
Ocellus flew over to Sandbar and yanked him out of the hug, leaving Gallus and Silverstream to quarrel for a while. “After this, you want to go and volunteer with Sunset? I’m gonna go assist the changelings here and the others will help out their own species!”
“Sure! Why not?” Sandbar moved past Ocellus, towards the counter. “Just let me bring Smolder.”
The dragon, meanwhile, had watched everything from afar. Seeing Sandbar suddenly hugged somehow didn’t stir up the passion to defend him. In fact, she felt...happy?
“Eh-heh, uh, Sandbar?” asked Sparkle from her chair. “Is it OK if I talk with Smolder for a while? You know, dragon things?”
“Yeah!”was Sandbar’s quick reply before being carried by his friends, swinging onto a table in noisy chatter. “But come back when you’re done, Smolder! You’ll be missing a lot!”
With the alicorn and the dragon to themselves, Sparkle tapped the empty swivel chair to her right. “Sit here.”
Smolder did so with a flap of her wings.
Twilight blinked at the former dog’s flight ability. “Righty! Looks like you’ve gotten used to your new appendages.”
Smolder spread them out again, showing those scaly wings off. “Cool, no? They’re kinda’ neat. Flying around...it’s much better than staying on the ground!”
“Good!” Twilight looked up wishfully, flapping her wings at that. Maintaining that cordial face, “Anything else you’ve noticed about dragons?”
“Like what?” Smolder asked, tapping her fingers around on the table. Boredom was settling in already. “I already know they can breathe fire.”
Twilight had the discipline to not look irritated. “That’s very obvious. I mean,” gazing upon a chatty Sandbar at the table, mingling with his diverse friends, “anything else?”
Smolder caught that glance and looked Sandbar’s way. “That we can still eat meat but ponies can’t? That’s why he didn’t eat any meat pizza last night.”
“Um...correct?” Twilight mumbled to herself something unintelligible, then: “But it’s not the answer I’m looking for.”
Smolder scratched her chin, frustrated at being quizzed so soon. If only she had homework to eat—but she didn’t need it anyway because she then said, “Dragons live longer than dogs!”
Sparkle’s ears folded, heart pounding. “A-Almost there.”
“Why live for just ten years when you can live a hundred with Sandbar?” Smolder even brought Sparkle into a hug of her own, excited at being with her best friend for a lifetime. “That’s an extra ninety years of aliveness! We’ll be friends ‘till the day we die!”
Sparkle then nudged the cup away from sight before escaping the dragon’s tightening grip. “OK, uh, let’s put it this way.”
She cleared her throat and coughed, took a sip from her coffee a dozen times, wiped her mouth with both wing and tissue paper, combed her mane with a brush, and scribbled something on a notepad.
Trying to stall for time.
But an impatient Smolder was what she got, seeing the dragon with crossed arms and bobbing legs, aching to get out of the chair.
Thus, the alicorn gave in. “The truth is: You’ll be friends with Sandbar ‘till the day he dies.”
Smolder raised a limp finger. “What?”
Sparkle pursed her lips, tempted to stay quiet by drinking more coffee. “Dragons live longer than dogs...and ponies. He will live longer than the average human, but he’ll peter out before three hundred—if he stays ridiculously healthy. Dragons themselves?” She rubbed her forehead, pained in thought. “They have lifespans reaching to the thousands of years.”
She pointed a wing at the group of friends, sitting by the table with their own coffee and their own food.
“Out of them? Your best bet is Ocellus. With a consistent source of love, changelings are projected to last just as long as dragons. The rest of them have about the same odds as Sandbar.”
Smolder bit her claw, submerged in mental agony. “So...h-he’ll go first?”
The princess found nothing else to say. She thought of reasons and explanations, of sweet and sugary words to soothe her, but she settled for four words: “That’s how it is.”
Saw Smolder droop down, her back bending to a hump. The dragon looked down at the counter with aimless eyes.
“I have to tell you now,” Twilight said, trying to sound in control—she knew she was losing it. “You seem so close to Sandbar that I thought you either didn’t know it or you’ve accepted it. I know you’d figure out in the next few weeks, but...the earlier, the better.” Looking off towards Sandbar. “The better, the readier.”
Smolder looked off his way, too.
“I know you’re quite loyal to Sandbar, but you’ll have to learn how to move on.” She rubbed the counter with her hoof, flustered that there was nothing else to do in this clumsy conversation. “You wouldn’t spend millennia crying over your master, would you?”
Smolder rubbed her arm, seeing some reason. “Yeah, I guess so, but it’s just so...deep, you know? I don’t wanna think about things like death.”
Sparkle smiled at the dragon’s innocence. “You can talk about it with Sandbar when the time’s right. You got a whole different kind of friendship now,” and, once more, pointed at Sandbar and his laughing friends—all caffeinated.
Thunk!
“Here’s some coffee,” Sparkle announced, levitating an extra cup to her.
Smolder held the hot beverage with her claws. “Aww, thanks! A gift from a princess! Woo-hoo!”
“Be careful! You may not like the taste of—”
“Hey guys!” Smolder declared, flying towards Sandbar and pointing at the cup. “Look what Princess Twilight gave me! Free coffee!”
And the whole coffeehouse was abuzz at this act of generosity. Surely, the Princess of Friendship would do such a thing, being a paragon of harmony.
This paragon, however, gulped and turned away, hiding her face from the crowd and contenting herself with her cup of coffee. She was last heard muttering, “I just want my coffee!”