“Yer goin’ the wrong way, little drake.”
Spike looked over the old stallion curiously. He was dark brown and wore a hooded burlap cloak, his right blue eye twinkling mirthfully while his glass-like left eye stared penetratingly into Spike’s soul. The old stallion leaned forward, supporting his shaking body on his oak staff.
“Then tell me, where am I supposed to be going?” Spike enquired, adjusting the weight of his bag on one shoulder. He’d spent the last few days going in circles and it was annoying him to no end. I passed the Peppermint Forest twice and almost drowned in the Chocolate Swamp. Great, now I hate chocolate. Pinkie Pie would be devastated.
The old stallion stroked the tufts of hair on his chin. “Ye make a right at the Cliffs of Insanity, go straight until ye hit Molasses Lake, then make two lefts until ye end up on the main road. If ye find yerself facin’ the Ice Cream Slopes, then ye've gone too far.”
Spike readjusted the grip he had on a tall, bundled object to pull a bit out of his belt-pouch and slip it to the old stallion. “Thank you, old fellow. Here, take this. It’s the least I can do.” He knew that times had become tough since Discord came into power and the elderly traveler had been polite enough to stop to help him.
Passing the bit back, the old stallion shook his head. “I thank ye for yer kindness, young drake, but I have no use fer gold.” Reaching into his knapsack, he pulled something out and placed it into Spike’s hands. It was the segmented horn of an unknown animal, bone-white with splashes of red-brown, ancient symbols carved into its surface. Bands of iron and silver were wound around the outer rim of the bell and mouthpiece, which had been masterfully carved in the shape of an alicorn in mid-flight. “This here slug-horn’ll be of better use to ye. Blow into it and ye’ll be filled with the strength and courage of thirty stallions.”
It certainly is a fine instrument. Spike’s eyes wandered over the horn, taking in every fine detail of what had to have been a painstaking process of craftsmanship. “Thank you, sir. But I’m afraid that I can’t accept this.” He held it out for the old stallion to take. Instead, the oldtimer gently pushed it towards Spike’s chest, a smile on his chapped lips.
“Ye can and ye shall. A washed-up old fossil like me has no use fer it. Ye do.” He then turned and slowly waddled away, his walking stick clicking with every heavy step he took. “Good luck, young drake! In a land like this, you’ll be needing it!”
“Well, that was kindly of him,” commented the unicorn skull hanging at Spike’s hip, leather straps wrapped around its jaws and looped through its eye sockets keeping it attached to the dragon's belt.
“Yeah, it sure was.” Spike turned the horn over in his hands, feeling the slight tingling in his flesh from holding the instrument. “Is there real magic in this thing, Star Swirl?”
“Indeed there is. An old magic, yes.”
Carefully placing the slug-horn in his bag, Spike stopped to make certain that the tall bundle was still wrapped tightly before trudging up the road, spotting the old stallion entering a ramshackled cottage and shutting the door behind him. He thought about asking the old stallion to stay at his place for the night but decided against it, as he still had much more ground to cover and would rest when he felt as though he’d gone far enough. As a hatchling, Spike loved hearing tales of knights and grand adventures, wishing that he was one such individual and that he’d get to save a princess (preferably Rarity) and vanquish monsters. He used to even play with three fillies back home and pretend that he was a hero off on dangerous quests. Now that he was, he was beginning to regret it.
“A bit for your thoughts, Childe Spike?”
Although Spike wasn’t overly fond of the title, due it sounding immature and somewhat degrading, it was a title for a knight-to-be and he’d rather be called a “childe” rather than “page” or “squire,” which both seemed a tad too hoity toity for his tastes.
“It’s nothing, Star Swirl. It’s just...I always wanted to go on a noble quest,” he admitted hesitantly. “Now that I am, I’m not sure that I’m ready. What if I’m not the hero? What if I’m just some dumb kid in way over his head?”
Star Swirl hummed, which was an amazing feat for somepony that lacked vocal cords. “Spike, I’m not a believer in fate. I never consulted the runes or scryed in a crystal ball. But I do know this: you are here for a reason. You could’ve been captured or killed by Discord, but you managed to get away and with the Staff. You are neither dumb nor in over your head. Believe in yourself. I know I do.” Somehow, Spike could get the feeling that the skull was smiling at him.
“Thanks Star Swirl.” They continued their journey down the peanut brittle road in silence, with Spike routinely switching the bundle from one hand to next, reassured by the feeling of its weight. If anything ever happened to the Staff, he’d never forgive himself. I swore to Twilight that I’d keep it safe and that’s a promise that I intend to keep. Even if it costs me my life to do it.
One Year Ago…
The stone wall erupted in an explosive shower of fire and debris, knocking the sextet of ponies backwards into the Canterlot royal garden, all them battered and bloodied by their conflict as a tall, viciously-grinning creature stepped through the newly-created gap in the wall. He had a gray horse-like head but with possessed two horns, one like a stag and the other a goat, which sat upon the top of a serpentine body with the right arm of a lion, the left claw of an eagle, the left leg a cloven hoof and the right leg scaly and reptilian. He spread his mix-matched wings, one feathered and one bat-like, his hands glowing with golden light.
This was Discord, the infamous Spirit of Disharmony and Lord of Chaos, the living embodiment of conflict and strife. Princesses Celestia and Luna tried locking him away ages ago but the draconequus master of mayhem wasn’t one for imprisonment, as the six current bearers of the Elements of Harmony have recently discovered. He was vicious, cunning and, worst of all, mad, which were all the worst qualities to have in a foe.
“Mwa-ha-ha-ha-he-he! Is that really all you’ve got?! ‘Cause I’m just getting warmed up!”
A wall of roaring flames sped across the grass, twisting around the various statues to surround the six ponies, creating a wall of fire that licked at them with fiery lashes. A bubble of grayish orchid energy emanated from Twilight Sparkle’s horn, protecting the unicorn and her friends and bursting through the flames. Despite looking frail and worn-out, Twilight stood defiantly against Discord, her eyes narrowed on the draconequus as her magical aura flickered but never went out.
“It’s not...over...yet, Discord!” She panted, her eyes momentarily drifting over to spot the young dragon hiding behind a singed bush, her gaze telling him, “No matter what happens, stay where you are.” Spike reluctantly nodded, a crooked staff hugged against his chest.
Applejack wrapped her hoof around Twilight’s foreleg. “She’s right! While there’s still breath in me, Ah’m not gonna stop fightin’ ya!”
“Same here, Dipcord!” Rainbow Dash huffed, taking ahold of Twilight’s other foreleg. The others soon followed, locking forelegs with the other to form a fleshy barrier between Discord and the castle.
“Indeed!”
“Ditto!”
“Um, me t-too.”
The draconequus threw his head back and cackled cruelly. "Awww, now isn't this pwecious? Do you all really want to die this much? Very well then. I can accommodate that, if it's what you truly desire!"
Twilight's eyes met Spike's and it was in that moment that the young drake knew it was time for the Last Resort. He looked to the staff he held in his hands. It was a gnarled, icy-blue and cool-violet piece of crystalized wood that formed many prongs, including two that made the whole thing resemble a large tuning fork. The staff was, in fact, a branch taken from the Tree of Harmony and prepared for such an occasion. He'd hoped that the occasion would never have to arise to use it and yet here it was.
Spreading her forelegs and closing her eyes, Twilight's body began to hum and glow magenta, her cutie mark appearing in the center of her chest. The others mimicked their leader, each one glowing with energy that represented their Element: orange, red, purple, blue and pink respectively. Discord's grin vanished, replaced with a confused scowl at the sudden display.
"What-what are you doing? Stop that!"
"Now!"
The cutie marks launched from their owners' chests, swirling around in the air before diving towards Spike, who quickly held aloft the staff, allowing the object to draw in the cutie marks like a sponge. With each cutie mark it absorbed, the staff began to radiate and drone with a prismatic aura of brilliant light. Spike had to grit his teeth as the staff violently jerked and vibrated in his hands, an oxymoronic cold heat traveling to and from his bones at holding the staff. When the lightshow finally died down, Spike sank to one knee and observed the staff, which now held six small gems and exuded a sense of serenity and hopefulness he didn't know he could ever experience. The moment was cut short when he felt a pair of yellow and red eyes watching from across the royal garden.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Discord licked his lips with avarice hunger. "Give me that staff and I promise that I'll kill you quickly and as painlessly as possible. Okay, just a teensy bit of pain."
A violet shape tackled the draconequus, orchid-colored energy blasts pelting him as Twilight roared challengingly. "Run Spike, run!" She screamed, her gaze momentarily darting over to the drake, her eyes pleading with him to obey her. She was soon joined by Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Rarity and Fluttershy, who zapped, punched, bit and kicked Discord in an attempt to buy their friend time to flee. Spike couldn't move, his loyalty and love for his friends planting his feet firmly on the ground. Sensing his hesitation, Twilight yelled, "Now Spike! Get out of here! Go!"
"B-but Twilight, I can't..."
Rarity turned, her azure eyes wide and tearful. "Please, Spikey. Please go." And with that, Spike dashed out of the garden, refusing to look back at the sounds of struggle as he ran. He bolted through the castle, past Canterlot's streets and into the unknown, not knowing where he was running, only that he had to put enough distance between himself and Discord. Once he was far enough away, he dropped to his knees in exhaustion, curled up into a ball and wept.