//------------------------------// // Into Scorching Fire // Story: Penn and Stone: Dynamic Duo // by Pennington Inkwell //------------------------------// "Penn? Pennington?" Pennington cracked open his eyes. Ixi- No, Moonstone. Right, Moon Moon. He caught himself slipping for a moment, caught between Quill's instincts and his own. It was going to take a long time to get used to having a second set of memories in his head. "Wha- what is it?" he muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "We're here." Immediately, Penn stiffened and straightened. He turned forward to look at their destination. In his mind's eye, he saw a memory of a verdant mountain covered in trees, capped by a layer of always-perfect powdered snow. Quill's memory of the place was one of welcome, of home and guidance from an old friend. The mountain Pennington looked at shared no such traits or attitudes. Scorch's mountain stood as a barren and craggy spire piercing into the sky. The surface of the mountain was only burnt and half-melted stone, glassy in places and pulverized in others. It was pitted and diseased-looking, as if the malice of the dragon living within had rotted it from the inside out. Clouds twisted and contorted around it in the sky, writhing as if the heavens themselves were being tortured by the intruding spire. A cavernous opening sat at the base of the mountain, easily large enough to swallow a dragon the size of even Sunstone, and the top of the mountain was completely gone, as if blown off in a volcanic eruption. A nervous shudder ran through the body of the dragon beneath them. "Scorch's madness has corrupted the land..." Noir whispered. Pennington could sense the larger dragon's trepidation as they began their descent. Pennington stamped his hoof twice, grabbing the dragon's attention. "Just drop us at the entrance, Noir, we'll take it from there." "A-As you wish, Scribe." Noir's tone was all-business, but Pennington could feel the muscles under his hooves relax slightly with relief. A few seconds later, they were back on solid ground. Pennington grabbed his saddlebags and easily dismounted from the dragon's back, followed soon after by Moonstone. He respectfully bowed his head, and Noir bowed his in kind. "Thank you, Noir. Both for this and for coming to our rescue before. I am certain anyone would be honored to call you their ally." Pennington said, trying to think of something respectful and reverent to say. "Return to your eyrie with honor. Should we succeed, we'll need no return trip. Should we fail... well, we CLEARLY won't be needing one in that case, either." The dragon bowed his head in return. "It was my honor... Pennington Inkwell. You are a good friend to my sister and, as such, a friend of mine." He raised his head slightly, flashing Moonstone a crooked smile. "See you later, 'No Fly Zone!'" he muttered, jabbing at Moonstone's stomach with the tip of his tail. Moonstone snickered and batted away the tail. "Yeah, yeah! Run on off to the hatchery, you big weenie! I'll catch you later!" With a single massive wingbeat, Noir took back to the skies, vanishing into the clouds after only a few seconds. Soon, Moonstone and Pennington were left totally alone, their destination just ahead of them. Moonstone let out a long sigh. "Why, oh WHY would you say we're not going to need a lift back? It's like you're PLANNING to die here!" Pennington took his turn to snicker, tousling Moonstone's spines. "Because when this is done, I don't plan on going back to Equestria. At least not by any way Celestia or Luna could trace, they're going to be looking for me. So I'm going any place that ISN'T Equestria!" Moonstone blinked, still looking confused. "But, if you're the new Scribe of Legends, shouldn't you be protecting Equestria?" "Once we're done here, Equestria will be FINE without me for a while... and I've got a lot to process." Penn muttered, turning to face the dark cavern. "Quill told me that his cycle was SHATTERED... and I've got an awful feeling it's going to take more than a brand-spanking-new Scribe of Legends to fix that." Moonstone fell quiet for a moment, her gaze turning towards the ground. "So, you're even more vulnerable than I thought..." Her eyes were beginning to brim with tears. Pennington sighed, and looked up into the pitch-blackness of Scorch's lair. He'd never considered reincarnation a viable backup plan, but... she was right. There was no guarantee of any kind that he would make it out of this alive, and he'd just been thrust into a literally BROKEN reincarnation cycle. From Moonstone's perspective, she had probably been banking a lot of comfort on the idea that if he died, he would simply reappear again later in her life, the same old pony in a new body. Pennington gave her spines another tousle. "Come on, Moon Moon, give me a little more credit than that! I'm walking out of here alive, that much is a given!" He glanced down at her, flashing a larger-than-life smile, the kind he usually saved for book signings in-character as "Scorching Quill: Indomitable Adventurer." He reached into one of his saddlebags, grabbing the Tidal Wand and pressing it into her claws. "It's just a matter of whether or not I'm going to get a cool scar!" This prompted Moonstone to punch him in the shoulder, laughing despite the tears rolling down her cheeks. "Shut UP, you dummy! We need a plan before we head in there!" Pennington nodded forward at the cavern. "Well, we'd better make it a bad one, we don't have time to come up with something prudent! Equestria is being torn apart by this crazy weather as we speak!" Moonstone chuckled softly. "One 'Inkwell Special,' coming up! Awful plan with a side of mishaps!" "And an extra-large adventure!" ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Pennington focused on keeping his breathing even and steady. He and Moonstone had decided to walk in together, side by side so that it looked like neither of them was above the other. He had to keep calm. The last time anyone had seen or spoken to Scorch had been when he had murdered Quill. A dragon that insane and violent had spent the last millennium in complete isolation, which meant that there was no way to predict his behavior. He kept his ears trained on the sound of Moonstone's footsteps to navigate in the pitch-black of the cave. They had long ago left the sun behind, relying on Moonstone's magical vision to guide them through turns and tunnels. Finally, however, the darkness gave way to light. They emerged in a cavern large enough to hold the entirety of Canterlot castle. The majority of the floor was covered in precious gemstones and gold, a hoard large enough to rival even the Royal Treasury of Canterlot. Every piece of wealth glittered and shone in the unfettered sunlight streaming in through the top of the mountain, a stark contrast to the constant overcast skies Pennington had grown used to over the past days. And there, basking in the sunlight, was a dragon. Scorch's green scales seemed to glow in the sun, baked warm by its light. His black underbelly only seemed to deepen the shadows beneath him. A quick glance allowed Pennington all of the confirmation he needed: his right claw was wearing a golden gauntlet. Seeing it face-to-face, Pennington could see ghostly blue shapes crossing back and forth across the surface, complex inscriptions and an oily shimmer all over it. It was an item that radiated pure, unadulterated power: the Windigo Gauntlet. For a split second, he considered simply trying to grab the gauntlet with his magic and bolt for it. It looked as if Scorch was asleep, after all. Immediately, however, the idea was cut off as Scorch opened one gigantic eye, locking it on the two intruders. Pennington felt something was off about that pale blue eye, but he couldn't tell what. It was on the tip of his tongue, he knew it, but he couldn't put his hoof on it. But there was no time to think about that as Scorch rose up to his full height. He stood on four legs, each as thick as a redwood tree, and sported a pair of wings wide enough to each provide shade for an entire city block on their own. His chest and body were equally sturdy-looking, with wide, proud shoulders and a thick chest. His midsection was tight and tapered to a tail of moderate length compared to the rest of his body, but still long enough to be a legitimate threat if this came down to a fight. Scorch sported a heavy-looking jaw that looked as though it could bite through the toughest materials with ease. In short, he looked like the perfect draconic specimen, a heavy hitter even among giants. Pennington and Moonstone both fell to their knees, bowing before their host. "Honor to Scorch, head of his household!" Moonstone cried. "May his name be eternal and his bounties immeasurable!" Pennington finished, lowering his head until the tip of his horn nearly touched the floor. Pennington didn't dare to move, but he could feel Scorch's gaze on his back like a searing sun. He swallowed as the scent of brimstone wafted through the room like a tidal wave. Finally, Scorch spoke. Even the calm speaking voice of such a massive beast rattled Pennington's bones. "You are a long way from home, pony. To enter my home uninvited is to court death by my whim..." he growled. "I- I come on behalf of the land to the north!" Pennington stuttered. His words felt unfamiliar, blocky and clumsy in his mouth. "I have brought tributes to your greatness, that I may humbly ask the boon of your wisdom!" Scorch's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he raised a massive foot and beckoned with one talon for Pennington to come closer. Pennington dutifully obeyed, rising to his hooves and walking towards their host. Once Pennington was well and truly standing in Scorch's shadow, a snort of hot breath from the dragon's nostrils signaled for him to stop. Pennington obeyed, resisting every instinct in his body to turn and run, to put distance between himself and this monster that could easily devour him a dozen times over in a single mouthful. Using his magic, he opened his saddlebag and began to remove the priceless magical artifacts inside. "I b-bring to you as offerings... The Glacier Sapphire! The Ruber Locomotus! The Topaz of Del-" "Trivialities." Scorch declared, raising the Windigo Gauntlet for Pennington to see. "I possess a treasure of GODLY power. Tributes such as these are more insult than gift!" He turned his nose upwards, and Pennington could see a glow of emerald flames in his nostrils. "Is this truly the best that Equestria can offer?" Pennington blinked, surprised. In all honestly, the one thing that he and Moonstone hadn't been ready for was actually being able to negotiate with this supposed maniac. He had to think, and quickly. "N-no! I also- uhm-" Pennington mentally slapped himself. Stuttering was a death knell in a negotiating situation, and "umm" the final nail in the coffin for any chance of being taken seriously. Falling flat on his face this early into the conversation was unacceptable, something he would NEVER do under any other circumstance! But he was SCARED. Pennington was terrified, a deep and primal fear that overwhelmed his senses and had turned his silver tongue to lead. "We have come on behalf of the Princesses of Equestria!" Moonstone chimed in, still kneeling where they had entered. "Fully deputized with all of their power and authority!" Pennington grabbed onto the lifeline Moonstone was offering to his frozen train of thought. "Yes! Yes, we've come on the behalf of Princess Celestia Solaire Majestia Faust and Princess Luna Noctis Selena Faust, Diarchs of Equestria! Any request you, oh great and powerful Scorch, would make of them, we are empowered to fulfill!" Scorch's eyes flickered back and forth between Moonstone and Pennington, one eyebrow arching ever-so-slightly. "And what, pray tell, would you ask from me in return, proxy royals of the North?" he growled, his voice enough to send small coins by Pennington's hooves rattling across the ground. Pennington took a deep breath. THIS was a question he had planned an answer to. Moonstone had steered them back to the dialogue they'd prepared before they entered. "Only to know the means, your grandness, by which we may save our fair country from annihilation by tempests! Equestria is plagued by typhoons, matched in ferocity and destructive power only by the might of a dragon such as yourself!" Pennington felt a new wave of urges to run well up in his chest as Scorch began to lean down towards him. Down, down the dragon's massive head came, bringing the scent of brimstone and heat that threatened to bake Pennington where he stood. Scorch's head tilted, pointing a slitted pupil down directly onto Pennington from above. "Equestria is dying, all life on the brink of extinction. In but a few days, all of ponykind shall slip into the mire... and you rise from the land to enter as its champion?" Even seizing and stuttering as it was, Pennington's mind put two and two together. This was Scorch's paranoia, the reason he had attacked Equestria, to begin with. He was looking for a sign that Pennington was the Scribe of Legends, a reason to attack. "While to- to bask in your greatness is a privilege unparalleled, Scorch the Magnanimous, and your knowledge of our plight is a testament to the depth with which your heart can be t-" Pennington stuttered as he was struck again by a sense of... WRONGNESS with this. The eye above him was WRONG, but he couldn't tell why. It was on the tip of his tongue, he knew it was, but it was like there was a brick wall between him and comprehension. "T-troubled! Troubled for such inferior beings as ponykind... I am b-but a humble cartographer! Conscripted into service because I was the only one who knew the way! I would never call myself a champion of anything more than finding safe paths for bolder souls to take!" Scorch blinked, it a small action on a being so large, yet it still sent a clap ringing in Pennington's ears. "And why would a 'humble cartographer' carry such a sword as the one you have strapped to your back?" Pennington blinked. The SWORD! It had been Quill's sword, and now he had walked straight into Scorch's lair with it! He may as well have come in wearing a sign that said "Kick Me! (and then violently murder me!)" on his back! "It- it was a gift! An ancient relic! I think it once belonged to some explorer, or something! It was more of a ceremonial item, really!" he stammered, fumbling with the belt across his chest until he had loosened it enough to remove it. He held the sheathed sword in his front hooves for a moment before setting it on the ground. Scorch's eye narrowed. "I know that sword well, tiny pony..." Scorch growled. "It is the sword that belonged to Equestria's last Scribe of Legends... Do you know whom that was, little faux royal?" Pennington grimaced slightly. "Scribe of Legends? I'm afraid I've never heard of him... must be an old story?" "The oldest, little pony... Stretching back to time immemorial. And that sword was last seen in the hooves of the former bearer of the mantle... and his predecessor. And his before him." Scorch lifted his gauntlet-covered claw, passing it over Pennington. Pennington screwed his eyes shut, a whimper slipping out through his lips as he felt a flash of heat. A moment later, the heat vanished, leaving him unharmed. Pennington cracked open one eye, revealing his sword sitting in a pile of ashes that had formerly been the sheath and belt. "The Golden Blade, _______..." Pennington took a moment, rubbing at his ear with one hoof. Great, another problem with his senses he couldn't seem to reconcile. "Oh, does that name bother you, pony?" Scorch muttered, a flicker of firelight at the back of his throat. "_______?" Pennington blinked multiple times, trying to clear the fog that the unhearable word seemed to put into his brain. He rubbed at his ear again, but his mind was still occupied. The combination of overwhelming terror and selective hearing left his brain feeling like it was made of stone. He had thought that facing Scorch would be like when he had gone up against Full Sails. He'd always thought that Sails was the biggest, scariest monster out there, but even when he had looked Sails in the eyes he had been able to keep thinking ahead. His whole life, it was like he could predict what HE would write on the next page. From there, he would act accordingly, predict and react accordingly. Miss Yearling had often joked about adventurers having a "sixth sense," that the speed of their reactions bordered on the supernatural. But there was no predicting at this point. Pennington couldn't think ahead. He couldn't predict. He couldn't react. There was no next page. "PENN, LOOK OUT!" Pennington was tackled to the ground as Scorch's tail swept above him. He felt a sharp, stinging pain on his face, but Moonstone's words were drowned out by Scorch's deafening roar. "YOU THINK YOU CAN FOOL ME, QUILL? Scorch's tail slammed into the wall, crushing the rock and leaving a heavy indentation. "DO YOU THINK I AM THE SAME HATCHLING I WAS WHEN WE MET? ALL THOSE YEARS AGO? Moonstone slapped Pennington's face again before reaching down and grabbing the sword and shoving it into his hooves. His ears were still ringing from Scorch's bellow, but he could read her lips well enough to tell what she was saying. Get in there! Pennington blinked for a moment, then nodded. He didn't need to think ahead. That was why they had made the plan. He gripped his sword in his magic, then the Glacier Sapphire. In Moonstone's hands, he could see that she was already holding the Tidal Wand. "I WILL ERADICATE YOUR FILTH FROM THE LAND ONCE AND FOR ALL!" He'd always said that a terrible plan was better than no plan at all. It was time to put that to the test.