To Earn One’s Wings
Chapter one: The library
Thunderbolt is a unicorn who solves problems. Ponies bring their troubles to him and he deals with them neatly and discreetly, for a price. Whether it is a mare who suspects her husband of infidelity or clearing out a monster-infested cave, he earns his Bits. This was why he was wandering the halls of the Canterlot Royal library in the dead of night. He had a job to do. Not that he wandered these halls alone. A golden pegasus mare hovered a few centimetres off of the ground beside him. A jeweller’s magnifying glass was pictured on the back of her flank. Her name was Aurum. The two didn’t know each other well. In fact, they had met the previous day. Aurum delivered a package into the beige unicorn’s hooves. She insisted, however, to join him on his job, hence she was with Thunderbolt that night.
A cold breeze pulled at Thunderbolt’s black cloak and hood that he wore. Aurum’s auburn braid shifted in the wind. A shiver escaped from her lips.
“How much further is this thing we are looking for?” she asked with a Manehattan accent.
“The archives should be around the corner,” Thunderbolt hissed, his voice rough with a slight Trottingham accent. He pointed to a sign above a door covered in gold inlays of prancing horses. It read Archives. “Look. There it is.” Thunderbolt pushed the door. He earned a soft rattle in response.
“Shit,” he swore. He looked around him, silver-blue eyes scanning the empty hallway. “Keep watch,” he ordered as he knelt down in front of the door’s keyhole.
“What?’ Aurum said, her head whipping around to look at Thunderbolt. Her voice seemed to echo through the hall.
“Keep your voice down,” Thunderbolt hissed. “Keep watch. Tell me if you hear or see anyone. I’m going to try and pick this lock.”
Aurum turned around. Her violet eyes started darting left and right. With a sigh, Thunderbolt closed his eyes. His horn started glowing a soft silver-blue. From under his cloak there emerged a set of lock picking tools covered in a silver-blue aura similar to his horn’s glow. The tools slid into the lock. Thunderbolt pressed one of his ears into the door, right next to the lock. Soon the soft clicking of moving tumblers filled his ears.
“So, what are we looking for?”
The sound of a snapping lock pick exploded in Thunderbolt’s ear. He swore under his breath. “Rosie, focus,” he hissed. “God, give me strength,” he muttered under his breath. He pulled another pick from under his cloak and slid it into the keyhole as he continued. “What was it you asked?”
“First off, why do you call me Rosie?”
“Cause you smelled like roses when we first met. Next question.”
“What are we looking for?”
“A book. The client didn’t tell me which one.”
“How are we supposed to find it then?”
“Not sure. He just told me to go to the place we met. I assume that the package you brought is supposed to help.”
“Oh.”
“Anything else?’
“No.”
“Then keep watch.”
A moment later the sound of moving tumblers filled Thunderbolts ears again. Aurum started humming a tune. If reminded Thunderbolt of a tune his mother used to sing to him. Shaking his head he refocused on the lock. Click. Click. Click. Tumblers shifted and clicked into place. A satisfied smile started forming on Thunderbolt’s lips.
“Uh, Thunderbolt. I think someone’s coming.”
“What?”
Aurum pointed to something on her right. Thunderbolt followed her hoof. A pinprick of light rounding the far corner of the hallway.
“Shit. Get down.” Thunderbolt squeezed himself flat against the wall. He heard the fluttering of feathers. He glanced upwards. Aurum was perched on top of a chandelier hanging above the hallway. She looked like she would fall at any moment. Thunderbolt turned his eyes toward the light bobbing toward him. He could make out a black unicorn pony shuffling in his direction. A grey stubble grew in patches across his jawline. The pony’s mouth opened wide in a yawn. The acrid smell of cigarette smoke assaulted Thunderbolt’s nose. His face contorted into a grimace at the smell.
A rattling sound echoed through the hallway. Thunderbolt glanced up. The chandelier Aurum was perched on was swaying side to side. The black unicorn’s light swept over the chandelier. Thunderbolt spotted Aurum. Her eyes were wide. Her face was pale. The light swept back over the chandelier. The black unicorn grunted something unintelligible and walked on. When he rounded the far corner Thunderbolt let out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. He turned to the door and started working at the lock again. Click. Click. Click. Ignore the ruffle of feathers. Click. Click. Clunk. The ornate door started to creak open.
“Get in. Quickly. Before the guard comes back.”
Behind the door was row upon row of shelves filled with books. It was like a legion of literature marching toward them. Aurum let out a relieved sigh. She sank to her haunches and was leaning against a wall. Her breaths were shallow. Her face was still as white as fresh snow.
“Are you ok?” Thunderbolt asked.
“I’ve never been so scared in my life,” she gasped.
Thunderbolt nodded. He extended his hoof in her direction. “Come on. Let’s get what we came for before the guard comes back. I don’t want to open that door in his face.”
With a nod, Aurum took his hoof and Thunderbolt pulled her to her hooves. Her eyes widened at the sight of the literature legion before her.
“How are we supposed to find one book when there’s so many of them?”
“I told you. With this.” Thunderbolt held a small box in her direction. “The package you gave me.” He opened the box. Inside was a small green gem. It pulsated with a rhythmic green glow. Almost like a beating heart.
“How does it work?”
“I’m not sure.” Thunderbolt turned the gem over in his magic. “It looks like it might be a standard locator spell. The gem’s glow pulses faster until we find whatever it’s connected to. Do you know who cut this gem?”
“Uhm, I did.”
Thunderbolt raised an eyebrow. “Really? It looks good.”
Aurum’s face became bright red. “Thanks,” she mumbled. Thunderbolt chuckled softly. He started walking toward the shelves, gem in front of him like a magical divining rod. “Come on Rosie. Let’s see where the glowing gem leads us.”
“I’ve been wondering something,” Aurum said after a long silence.
“What?”
“Aren’t you breaking the law to do your job?”
“Occupational hazard. Does it bother you?”
“I-I guess. Why do you do it?”
“I need to put food on my plate Rosie and if you hadn’t noticed, my skills aren’t exactly suited to an honest job.”
“Is there really nothing else you can do with those skills? No-”
Thunderbolt glared at Aurum. “If my profession rankles your moral sensibilities so much why are you here?” Aurum stuttered a half response, but Thunderbolt cut it off. “Did you read a couple of thrillers and think that some cloak and dagger nonsense might spice up your life? Allow me to let you in on a little secret. Most ponies like that barely make it through their first job.”
“Why did you let me tag along then?”
“To make sure you get back home. I’m not letting anyone die if I can help it.” Thunderbolt looked at the glowing gem. The rhythmic glow was now almost constant. “I think it’s this shelf.” He swerved into a small alley between two shelves. He pulled a book from the right shelf with his magic and held it up to the gem. It flashed an angry shade of red. Thunderbolt floated the book onto a nearby table. “Could you please get some of the books on the upper shelves?” he asked with a glance toward Aurum. “I want to finish this before a guard comes.”
Aurum flew up toward the higher shelves and started dropping books toward Thunderbolt, who caught them in his magical grip. The pile of books on the table grew as the red flashes on the gem increased. To Thunderbolt they seemed to become deeper and angrier. He was becoming nervous. This was taking too long. That guard might wander back and decide to poke his head into the archives. Another red flash. Another book on the pile.
“Would you have killed him?”
Aurum’s voice almost made Thunderbolt drop the gem and books.
“What?” he blurted, the single syllable springing from his mouth like a frog’s tongue shooting toward a fly.
“That guard,” she clarified. “If he found us, would you have killed him?”
“No,” he exclaimed. “I don’t kill unless the thing that I’m killing is a direct threat to me or my employer.”
“What if your employer ordered you to kill someone?”
“I’m not an assassin,” Thunderbolt said with finality. “You can’t put a price on life.”
“Oh. That’s good.” From the corner of his eye, Thunderbolt saw a small smile tugging at the corner of Aurum’s mouth.
Thunderbolt opened his mouth to respond when the green glow intensified and brightened. A small smirk formed on Thunderbolt’s face. The brightened green glow from the gem gave him a sinister appearance, banishing the shadows of his hood and reflecting off his silver-blue eyes. Books around him fell like stones.
“Rosie, we got it.” Thunderbolt reached out to touch the blue tome. His smile vanished and his eyes widened the moment his hoof touched soft leather. He felt an aura of rage and misery reaching out to him like a drowning pony. It felt like icy hooves clamped around his throat as a shadow fell over him. He did not notice this. He also did not notice Aurum screaming for his attention. Only once Aurum pulled at him was he roused from his stupor. Only now did he notice the shadow and the purple sun blossoming at the heart of its source.
He froze, his body refusing to move despite a brain screaming at him to run. To roll out of the way. To erect a magical shield. To whisper a prayer before immolation. To do something. A wave of heat preceded the wall of purple dragon fire that surged toward them, shattering the oversized window as it rolled over the pair. Thunderbolt’s eyes widened as he watched the tube of fire expand. Thunderbolt tackled Aurum out of the sky, pinning her under him. He felt her heart hammering against his chest. He lit his horn and a silver-blue shell appeared around them. The sea of fire rolled over the shell like a tsunami rolls over a beach ball. Thunderbolt felt like he was being cooked alive inside the shell of magic. It didn’t help that Aurum was flailing her legs and wings about underneath him or that a thin stream of blood started to make its way down the front of his muzzle to drip on Aurum’s chest. He would never figure out whether the blood flowed because of heat or the strain of keeping the shield intact.
When the barrage of purple fire had died down Thunderbolt disentangled himself off of the flailing mare and wiped the blood off his muzzle, taking a moment to stare at his blood on his hoof. He turned and looked into a pair of emerald reptilian eyes. A low growl came from the oversized lizard those eyes belonged to. It mingled with the sounds crackling fires fuelled by old bookshelves holding even older tomes. Thunderbolt licked his lips. He had not expected a dragon. Smoke curled from the black pits it called nostrils. A low growl emanated from its throat. Shattered stained glass crunched as the massive reptile set himself onto the white marble floors of the library, black scales glinting in the firelight. He stalked toward the pair before him, leaving deep trenches in the wake his claws.
Aurum whimpered behind Thunderbolt. He tore his eyes from the beast before him and glanced at the mare behind him. She looked terrified with her eyes darting around like geckos on a hot plate. With her knees arched and her wings outstretched she looked ready to fly to the moon. And fly she did. She zoomed through the shattered window as fast as mist disappearing before the sun, rolling over the dragon’s swiping tail as she did so.
Thunderbolt used this time to bolt to the exit of the archives, lugging the heavy tome they had come here for with him. It felt heavier than it did five minutes ago. He glanced back and saw the dragon rampaging after him through a forest of burning bookcases. The fire-breather opened his maw and a wave of sound hit Thunderbolt. Despite the cacophony that assaulting his ears, he could swear that he heard a voice. A guttural growl that proclaimed him a fool. Thunderbolt glanced back and saw a purple glow in the back of the dragon’s throat. He rolled to the side and into the hallway. The blast of flame scorched the dull carpet, blackened white doorframe and warped the golden window frame.
Thunderbolt bolted down the hallway, wracking his brain to figure out why a dragon would try to barbeque him. Would someone hire a dragon to immolate him? He knew of only three nobles who could afford dragon mercenaries and had been intentionally avoiding them. Or was it the dragon settling a grudge? Not all of his dealings with dragons was on friendly terms, after all. He accused you of being a fool, a little voice reminded him. What kind of assassin does that? No assassin, Thunderbolt answered himself. If he wasn’t here to kill somebody then why was he here? He had no more time to ponder over this, however, because through the gaudy front doors of the Royal library a deep growl could be heard.
Thunderbolt eased the doors open, cursing its unoiled hinges as he did so. Before him stood the beast he was fleeing from, a feral grin on the beast’s face. Emerald eyes glinted with pride. Pride diluted by a hint of sorrow. Thunderbolt took a deep breath, straightening as he did so. Then he threw the doors wide open. He would face this head on despite the fear curling around his throat and heart.
The dragon sucked in air through his nostrils, pulling at Thunderbolt’s mane and cloak. He opened his maw and a purple glow emanated from the back of his throat, sucking in an even greater gulp of air. Then he breathed back out, pushing the purple inferno past two complementary rows of jagged knives.
Time seemed to slow as the world before Thunderbolt got covered in a cobalt blue film. It sparkled and vibrated when the purple flames hit the expanding magic shell. The flames flowed around the shell, scorching the pristine tiles.
It is needless to say that the dragon was shocked when the saw Thunderbolt standing unharmed inside a circle untouched by the flames. Thunderbolt, for his part, wondered who would protect him from a barrage of dragon fire with magic. His saviour, if you could call her that, was not a unicorn. Then the voice came. Thundering from behind the reptile it was filled with fire and steel.
“SURRENDER, DRAGON!” the clearly feminine voice bellowed. “SURRENDER AND WE SHALL SHOW MERCY!”
The dragon whipped his head around to look at the newcomer. A midnight blue pony with wings spread and horn aglow. An alicorn. A near immortal race of ponies. Little is known about them save for their raw magical power that can even control the celestial bodies.
The alicorn was clad in armour of silver moonlight, her star sprinkled mane and tail flowing in the non-existent wind. An icy inferno burned in her pale blue eyes. A crescent moon on a smudge of black adorned her flanks. Shadows seemed to curve toward her like wires to a magnet. She was flanked by grey guards clad in lavender armour with a silver crescent moon insignia on their breasts. Leathery bat wings protruded from their sides. Reptilian eyes gazed ahead stonily.
The giant lizard shifted his weight toward the alicorn, his tail whipping Thunderbolt across the courtyard. He studied this ensemble before him. A soft chuckle escaped his lips. A chuckle that grew into a guttural laugh. That laughter grew into a deep and mocking cackle. The alicorn narrowed her eyes.
“Surrender?” the dragon asked, shaking with laughter. “A dragon surrenders to no one. Especially not a pony. Now step aside. This does not concern you.”
“I WILL ONLY GIVE YOU ONE MORE CHANCE,” the alicorn bellowed, shadows millimetres from her hooves. “AS A PRINCESS OF EQUESTRIA I DEMAND THAT YOU SURRENDER PEACEFULLY, LEST YOU WISH TO ENDURE MY WRATH!”
The dragon stopped laughing. A low growl escaped his lips. “I don’t care if you were God himself standing before me. This is between me,” a claw pointed at himself. “And that pony.” The claw pointed to Thunderbolt, who was still lying in a bundle of cloak and limbs and saddlebags. “So leave.”
The bundle groaned and shifted, lifting itself from the grassy courtyard. Thunderbolt regarded the dragon with a grimace. His cloak had shifted, covering only his side and pooling at his left hooves. This revealed the symbol of a crossed sword and lightning bolt on his back part of his flank. His faded saddlebags partially obscured angry red scar tissue around a black joint. A joint attached to a limb that stretched out like an errant branch covered in feathery leaves.
Thunderbolt reached up with a hoof and gripped the clasp on his cloak. “Then let’s do this, Scales,” he said as he ripped the cloak from his body, revealing the other half of his body, twin to the other save for a circular scar in his side with tiny branches, like the roots of a tree.
“ENOUGH!” the Princess cried, stomping her hoof on the ground. Shadows crept closer to her. Her guards took steps toward the dragon and pony glaring at each other. “Nightguard, seize the dragon!” The bat-ponies spread their leathery wings and sped toward the massive lizard. A bright tendril of arcing light flashed before them, bringing with it a crackling boom and the smell of ozone. Lightning scorched the dragon’s snout. The wisps of smoke lazily drifting from the reptile’s nostrils thickened. The alicorn whipped her head in Thunderbolt’s direction. Shadowy tendrils crawled up her legs like vines around a tree trunk.
“What are you doing!?” she screamed, the strain on her face evident. Thunderbolt bore a determined expression. His knees were bent. His wings were spread. Smoke drifted from the tip of his horn. A roar echoed across the courtyard. Thunderbolt glanced at the alicorn.
“I am just trying to not be flame grilled, princess,” he quipped. With a flap of his wings, he sped toward the dragon. More lightning wreathed itself around his horn, arcane symbols spicing the crackling magic. A glow formed once more in the back of the dragon’s throat. The nightguards, who had been preparing to collectively ram the reptile at that time, scattered like a firework. Thunderbolt arched his head back and threw the crackling bolt of lightning into the fire breather’s maw.
The dragon’s body was wracked with spasms. The breath of flames intended for Thunderbolt went wide, scorching a patch of grass and singing a nightguard’s tail. Thunderbolt veered upwards, a golden ball of magic forming on the tip of his horn. It kept growing in a swirling mass of energy and arcane runes. Thunderbolt whipped his head down, spreading his wings outward and his limbs downward. The golden ball shattered into shimmering blades that sped toward the overgrown lizard on the ground. Many harmlessly lodged themselves into the black scales, but others ripped and tore gaping holes in the dragon’s leathery wings, which had been extended to follow Thunderbolt. Globs of blood dripped onto the grass.
The Nightguards surrounded the downed dragon. The princess fired bursts of magic whenever he shot out a claw or swung his tail to harm her guards. Her face seemed almost relaxed despite the shadows that were slowly uncoiling themselves from her midsection.
Thunderbolt felt like he had just ran a marathon. The base of his horn ached. His was panting as he hovered above the scene, taking in what the spell had accomplished. He had taken a dragon down. He would be excited if a stiff breeze wouldn’t be able to blow him away. Suddenly a sharp pain stabbed him in the flank. His left wing contracted and he clutched at it while falling toward the blood-stained grass, landing with a thud and a grunt of pain.
The princess’s head whipped in Thunderbolt’s direction. Taking advantage of her distraction the dragon swung his tail around, sending the Nightguard flying. With a hateful roar, he sped toward Thunderbolt. His maw was open wide, wide enough to eat a pony in a single bite. Thunderbolt looked up from where he stood on his knees, a grimace on his face. A hoof clutched at his side. Jaws snapped shut millimetres from his face. Shimmering cobalt blue chains lined with runes tethered the dragon to the grassy ground. A mocking cackle burst from where the princess stood. Or at least where she was supposed to be standing. In her place stood a creature with fur black as night. Her normally flowing mane of stars became a nebula surrounding her head. Her new fangs glinted in the pale moonlight. Her pale blue eyes became like those of a dragon. Eyes that glowed with madness.
Thunderbolt staggered to his hooves and turned to the not-princess. The not-princess had a predatory smirk on her face. She stood so much taller than her midnight blue counterpart. His ears lay flat against his skull. He still clutched his side with the cramping wing. His horn ached. He didn’t like his odds if he needed to fight.
“LUNA!” a voice cried. “Sister, what are you doing?”
The not-princess turned toward the voice. She narrowed her eyes at the snow white alicorn that set herself down before her. The newcomer’s mane and tail were like rainbow coloured flags waving in the wind. Concern filled her eyes.
“Celestia,” the not-princess stated. “Why are you here? The night is my domain.”
“I am here,” Celestia said. “Because somebody reported a dragon attacking one of our libraries. It seemed so absurd that I simply had to see for myself.”
The not-princess gestured to the chained reptile. “There it is! Now you may return to your ivory tower,” her voice turned into a low hiss. “Sister.”
The thumping of boots echoed across the courtyard.
“I am afraid I cannot,” Celestia replied.
The courtyard filled with ponies clad in golden armour. Some of them moved to help the Nightguard while others moved to secure the dragon for transport. One even helped Thunderbolt. All while the not-princess screeched and threatened.
“Luna! Control yourself!” Celestia demanded with a stomping of a hoof, her voice magically amplified “The danger is over.”
The not-princess blinked, her pupils expanding to a more normal form. Her coat lightened and her fangs grew blunter. Her mane twisted and contorted and shrunk. Luna, Princess of the night, stood before Celestia. Her eyes widened at the sight of the chained dragon and Thunderbolt’s wary gaze. Celestia draped a wing over her back, leading her back to the palace while answering her apologies with kind words and forgiveness.