//------------------------------// // Act 1/Chapter 5: A Dragon Reborn // Story: Power of the Dragonflame: The Resurrection of Torch // by Mystic Mind //------------------------------// Ember declined Stellar Shine’s offer to stay overnight. If she was to get more dragons to consider ponies worthy of sporting competitions, she had a lot of work ahead of her. It was a long, boring balloon flight back to the Dragon Lands, so the moment she spotted the ash clouds, she ordered the aeronaut to descend. Taking a deep breath, Ember felt the familiar sting of volcanic gasses and earthen particles scrape at her lungs. Since claiming the Dragon Lord’s title, she had travelled the length and breadth of Equestria, but no matter how long or short these trips were, she always missed her home’s harsh air. It was in her blood, a unique imprint that she never felt complete without. “So, Lord Ember, where should I drop ya?” the aeronaut, a dark green Pegasus pony, asked, pulling up his now dust-covered goggles. “Anywhere that’s land will do,” Ember replied. “Oh, and thanks for the lift. Flying all the way from here to Equestria was murder on the wings!” “Don’t I know it,” he ruffled his feathers. “Of course, I love flying, but there are some places where y’need an extra boost, know what I mean?” “You should see dragons in the migration season,” Ember sighed with content, leaning on her hands. “They can travel for miles on end when they’re together. It’s a pretty spectacular sight when a Dragon Lord calls them.” “You should get into the tourist business,” the aeronaut quipped. “I bet anypony would pay serious bits ta see a full-on flight of dragons – I know I would!” “I’ll think about it.” Ember chuckled. As nice as the idea was, it would have to wait until after the Equestria Games. She knew from experience how fragile a dragon’s ego could be, so treating them like herd animals would do little to aid relations. “Yo, Lord Ember. You expectin’ a welcome party?” “What?” “We got a couple dragons coming at us, three-o-clock. Pretty big ones, too. You know ‘em?” Ember followed the aeronaut's gaze. Indeed, two huge dragons were flying straight for her, and they looked to be in a rush. At first, Ember wondered if they had an urgent message to deliver, but then she noticed that they weren’t slowing down. Something’s not right, she thought. Why aren’t they avoiding us? It’s not like we’re hard to see! Grabbing her sceptre, Ember leapt from the basket. “Halt!” She bellowed. The hulks ignored her - instead, they picked up the pace. “By the order of the Dragon Lord, I command you to stop!” The bloodstone sceptre flared to life, enveloping the aggressors in its bright red aura. At Ember's command, they threw their feet forward, wings spread wide to slow them down. Maybe now they’ll tell me what's going on, Ember thought - not for long, however. Without warning, the aura shattered. Ember reached again for the sceptre’s power, but the dragons were too close. Taking in a long, deep breath, the dragons unleashed their fury with a gushing firestorm. Thinking fast, Ember rolled right, diving just in time to avoid incineration. The aeronaut, however, was not so lucky. By the time she looked back, he was no more, falling to the ground as little more than a burnt-out ruin. Ember gritted her teeth. She didn't know what was making her kind so bloodthirsty. Now they had gone too far. She would put a stop to their rampage right then and there. Yet as they closed in, Ember saw that these were no ordinary dragons. They were bloated and putrid, like they'd been dug up from a shallow grave, staring at her with bulbous, empty eyes. A malicious grin twisted across their face as they opened their mouths, revealing their long jaws to be lined with decayed black teeth. Ember could smell the stench of rotten flesh on their breath. It made her want to gag. She tried to use the Bloodstone Sceptre again, to no avail. Whatever magic had transformed these dragons, it was too powerful to handle alone. Dammit, she clenched her fists. Gotta find help before they attack anyone else. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Ember snapped around to an all too familiar voice. Garble. He was the last dragon she wanted to see. Besides a mild growth spurt, he had changed little since the Gauntlet of Fire. And now, here he was, blocking her path with all the smugness of a spoiled hatchling. “Whatever it is, Garble, I don't have time for this. Move it or lose it!” Ember tried to shove him aside, but he didn’t budge, grabbing her arm and twisting it behind her back. “Garble, what in Tartarus are you doing?!” “Aww, what’s the matter?” the younger dragon taunted. “Can’t the little Princess Ember fight without her sceptre? Looks like your prissy pony friends made you weak after all.” “I’ll show you who’s weak!” Swinging her hips forward, Ember slammed her foot into Garble’s gut, knocking the wind out of him. Slipping out of his grip, she made a dash for freedom. Only then did the true horror of the situation sink in. As the sun set below the horizon, a truly humongous black dragon cast a long shadow over her. And this was not just any dragon, either. “Hello, Ember.” Covered from head to toe in a thick layer of obsidian, Torch greeted her. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” Ember could hardly believe her eyes. This has to be a dream. Dad died years ago! There's no way he could've come back to life. Yet here he stood, the epitome of impossibility, greeting her as he would an old friend. She tried to speak, but no words would come. Her body was frozen. “What’s the matter?” mocked Garble. “Pony got your tongue?” “You,” Ember spun around, grabbing Garble by the throat. “What’re you trying to pull? I knew you were jerk, Garble, but a stunt like this is low, even for you!” “Oh, I assure you this is no trick,” Torch said. “The laws of life and death have been re-written, so I have returned to reclaim my rightful place as the Dragon Lord.” “You heard the man,” Garble sneered, somehow articulate despite being choked. “Be nice to daddy and hand him the sceptre.” “Never!” Tossing him, Ember flapped her wings to escape, only for Garble to grab her foot in a surprising turn of agility. “My turn,” he rolled onto his side, dragging Ember into a dive and slamming her to the ground – her ankle snapping with an audible crack. “I’ll be taking that.” Pressing his heel in the centre of Ember’s chest, Garble reached over to yank the Bloodstone Sceptre free. Just as Ember predicted he would. Before he could grab the sceptre, Ember butted her head against Garble’s and he stumbled back, dazed just long enough for her to get free. Once again, Ember took to the air, but this time it wasn’t Garble who blocked her path. Before she knew it, Torch smacked her down with his gigantic claws, pinning her beneath his palm. “Naughty, naughty,” he chided, wagging a claw, his grin twisted. “You should’ve bowed to me when you had the chance. Garble, take the sceptre.” “Oh, I will,” he sneered, rubbing his head. “But first, a little payback.” Cracking his knuckles, Garble wound up his arm and threw a punch at Ember’s head, but once again misjudged the amount of wiggle room she had. Dropping the sceptre, summoning every bit of strength she had, Ember shoved Torch's finger into the path of Garble's fist, the bones in his arm shattering on impact. Seizing the moment, Ember pulled herself free, flapping her wings as hard as she could to escape her father's grasp. “Damn you, Ember!” Garble cried, his broken arm hanging limp by his side. “Don't think you can outrun me forever, you hear? I swear, I'll have your head as a trophy!” “You'll do no such thing,” Torch boomed in Garble's face, blowing him off his feet. “In case you've forgotten, that's my daughter you're talking about.” “B-but Lord Torch,” Garble protested despite the agony in his arm. “She cheated at the Gauntlet—” “Don't you think I know that?” Torch slid two fingers around Garble, raising him to eye level. “None of that matters now. I am Dragon Lord once again, and it is I who will put Equestria in its rightful place below me - that includes Ember. If she won't serve me willingly, well,” he gently picked up the Bloodstone Sceptre between his free claws, “she won't have a choice, either way. One week later, Spike paced back and forth across the platform at Ponyville station.  “C’mon, Smoulder,” he muttered to himself. “Twilight’s gonna be here any minute.” Spike let out a long sigh. He’d hoped the two most important creatures in his life would be here to meet each other, especially given the subject of Twilight’s diplomatic visit, but as the locomotive’s whistle sounded in the distance, it looked as though he wouldn’t get the chance to re-introduce his mate. Their time together at the Friendship School was one of Spike’s most treasured childhood memories. Whenever they had a spare moment, they’d spend it in the library, sharing many a tale from their respective societies. Spike recalled how he would regale her with countless stories from pony history, including the rise and fall of Nightmare Moon. Likewise, Smoulder’s stories were all about the Dragonlands, explaining the brutal necessities of surviving where natural resources were difficult to come by. To Spike, it felt like only yesterday that Smoulder had graduated. Hand in hand, sharing a kiss, a joining of two dragons from different nations, immortalised in the final class photograph. Every word she spoke was like music to his ears, making his heart thump as he gazed into her teal-coloured eyes… “Oh, Spike! Equestria to Spike…” Spike stared off into space, lost in his doe-eyed trance until Smoulder slapped his cheek. “Ow! Smoulder, what was that for?” “To get your attention, dummie,” Smoulder grinned and kissed his raw cheek. “The train’s here.” Sure enough, the guard was already making his way down the train, unlocking the doors to each compartment. “Spike, Smoulder!” Twilight wrapped her hooves around them as she exited the carriage. “I've missed you.” “And we've missed you too, Twilight,” Spike returned the hug. “How did the meeting go?” “Way better than expected,” Twilight floated her crown back into one of her saddle bags. “Ember got some shifty looks from ponies in the Cathedral, but I think her authority made sure they behaved.” “That's a relief,” Smoulder sighed. “I swear, every time we fly over to Canterlot, the guards look about ready to shoot us!” “Wait, what?!” Twilight went bug-eyed, glancing rapidly between Smoulder and Spike. “Please tell me that's not literal.” “Well…” Spike hesitated, rubbing the back of his head. “When they see that it’s me flying into town, they lower their weapons. They’re just a bit… trigger-happy on occasion.” “Spike, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Twilight levitated a notepad and pen from her saddle bags. “I’ve got to tell Princess Celestia. What if the guards treat other dragons with the same hostility, or worse? This could ruin everything I— everything we’ve worked for!” “Twilight, I know I'm not as close to you as Spike, but,” Smoulder folded her arms. “Aren't you catastrophising just a little bit? You know how tight security's been since the Empire's Siege. Maybe the Canterlot guards are just being careful?” Twilight shook her head. “There’s being careful, and there’s being paranoid, Smoulder.” Rolling up the scroll in her magic, she sealed it with a small bow and held it in front of Spike. “And as the Princess of Friendship, it’s my duty to deal with friendship conflicts whenever they come up. Spike, a little fire, please?” Spike shuffled uncomfortably on the spot, which Twilight noticed. She let out a little sigh and placed a hoof on Spike’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Spike. I know you want to handle stuff on your own. But this is bigger than one dragon. You know why I can’t just sit and let prejudice threaten one of Equestria’s biggest allies.” “I know that, Twilight,” Spike held Twilight’s hoof between his claws. “But I learnt from you to see the best in Ponies. If the Canterlot Guard hated me for being a dragon, why would they recognise me as the Crystal Empire’s hero? It doesn’t make sense.” “Sorry, Spike,” Smoulder interjected. “But I have to agree with Twilight. You remember how Chancellor Neighsay acted when we were kids. Before then, you were the only dragon to come anywhere near Canterlot. Can you blame them for being a little edgy at times?” “I know it’s hard to accept, Spike,” Twilight said. “I didn’t think it was that bad either. But we need all races to see things from a dragon's perspective. Not because yours doesn’t matter, but because we need all dragons to feel welcome. “You’ve done so much for me, Spike,” Twilight smiled. “Please, let me do this for you.” “I guess so,” Spike relented. “It's easy to forget how privileged— wait, what’s that?” Squinting his eyes, Spike pointed toward a slender, blue shape that looked to be weaving its way across the sky. A quick magnification spell from Twilight revealed the figure’s identity. “It’s Ember! What’s she doing back so soon?” “Oh no...” Smoulder’s eyes went wide. “Twilight, Ember's in bad shape, we have to help her!” “I’m on it!” Leaping to her aid, Spike raced toward her as fast as his wings could propel him. But before he could catch her, Ember's wings gave out, slipping from Spike's grasp. With no time to waste, Twilight teleported and caught Ember on her back, needing both Spike and Smoulder to slow her descent. Already a crowd of onlookers gathered on the platform, murmuring speculations amongst themselves. “Alright everypony,” Spike announced. “Make way, we've got an emergency here!” Once they landed, Twilight carefully laid her out on the ground to get a better look at her injuries. From a single glance, she could already tell how extensive they were. She was struggling to breathe, the dark bruises around her chest and abdomen suggesting damage to her ribs. “Ember?” Twilight gently held up her head with a hoof. “Ember, can you hear us?” “Twilight?” Ember said weakly, trying to sit up. “Help... I need.. the Dragonlands are.. help...” coughing up blood, Ember slumped back into Twilight's hooves, unconscious. “Don't worry, Lord Ember,” Smoulder squeezed her claw. “We'll get you fixed up in no time.” “We've got to get her to the Ponyville hospital!” Twilight said. “Spike, can you find something to use as a makeshift stretcher? I'll need help from both you and Smoulder to keep her steady.” “On it!” Spike flagged down the Station Master. “Ugh,” Ember groaned. Her eyes flickered open to a blurry sight. It took a moment, but once they focused, she recognised Twilight sitting at the foot of her bed. She was in Ponyville hospital. Besides Twilight, Spike and Smoulder, she was the only one in the room. She tried to sit up, only for a sharp, stabbing pain in her side to stop her. “Ember!” Twilight leapt to her hooves. “Good to see you're awake. You had a really lucky escape there. What happened?” “Wait, what?” Ember looked down to see her stomach wrapped in bandages, her memories flooding back. “Twilight! The dragon land ponies, every creature is in danger! He—” Her words were cut short by a fresh fit of coughing. “Take it easy, Lord Ember,” Smoulder’s brow furrowed. “How long were you flying for? The doctor said you severely strained your wing muscles.” “I flew from the Dragon Lands,” Ember wheezed, struggling to get a word out without hacking up her guts. “My father, Torch, he's returned. And he's done something to the dragons, stealing my sceptre.” “How’s that possible?” Spike stood up next to Smoulder. “I thought Torch died a decade ago, so how’s he still around?” “It shouldn’t be possible. Unless…” Twilight gasped. “Oh, sweet Celestia. Ember, you were right to come and find me. This really is bad.” Spike and Smoulder looked at each other. “What're you talking about, Twilight?” Spike asked. Ever prepared, Twilight levitated a book from her saddle bags. “I've been studying this book of forbidden magic. After the Siege, Celestia gave it to me to help identify potential threats dark magic could pose in the future, and from what I’ve read, there's only one magic school that can bring creatures back from the dead,” Twilight held the book open in her magic and turned it to Ember. “Necromancy. The book doesn't go into much detail, but if it's anything like what Moonshadow did to create the Phantom Stallions? We've got a serious situation on our hooves – or claws, in your case.” “But that still doesn't make sense!” Smoulder protested. “Princess Cadence and Stellar Shine defeated Moonshadow, along with his Phantom Stallions. There shouldn't be anypony left who can use that kind of magic!” “I thought so, too,” Twilight closed the book. “I can't be certain yet. It could also be an elaborate illusion.” “Are you saying I'm crazy?” Ember snapped, ignoring the pain as she lunged and grabbed Twilight by the scruff of her neck. “If I'm just seeing things, then what the heck happened to my ribs? My own father tried to crush me beneath his claws! I can't have just imagined all that.” “Ember, please!” Spike pleaded, slipping between Ember and Twilight. “Twilight didn't mean it that way. Twilight's an expert on magic, she just wants to be certain this is what we think it is.” Ember glared at Twilight for a few seconds, then let her go. “I suppose you're right,” she huffed, leaning back down. “Thank you Spike,” Twilight looked back to Ember with a sympathetic expression. “I'm sorry I offended you. I don't think you're crazy at all. Something did happen to you, but illusions combined with golems are much easier to pull off than necromancy. We need to check before we take action, or we’ll play right into their claws.” “Alright, fine,” Ember turned onto her side. “Sorry for lashing out at you. It's just super embarrassing to be taken to a pony hospital. I'm the Dragon Lord, for crying out loud! I know Spike helped me get the title, but I still won it, fair and square. No dragon has ever successfully challenged me since, only for ponies to kick the crap out of me with some stupid rock puppet. Guess I'm not as strong as I thought I was.” “Hey, it’s not your fault you were tricked,” Spike smiled. “I don’t think any dragon would expect to see Torch come back to life. There's got to be some powerful magic going on behind the scenes, right, Twilight?” “Right,” Twilight confirmed. “If it’s an illusion, then it's no ordinary spell. It takes a ton of magic just to keep a golem together, let alone make it look like a dragon giant! No creature could stand up to that on their own. Not even Celestia.” Ember sighed. “I guess you're right. But let me make one thing clear: the second I'm well enough, I want in on all the info you got. Someone, or something, is trying to take over my kingdom, and it's my duty as Dragon Lord to kick their butts!” “Hopefully that won't be necessary...” Twilight hesitated. “But I'll contact Stellar Shine right away. We'll get to the bottom of this, don't you worry!” “Thank you, Twilight,” Ember gave a weak smile. “Just, don't tell any other dragons I got my butt handed to me, okay? I don't want to hurt national relations between Dragons and Ponies.” “I won’t, it's a Pinkie promise,” Twilight saluted. “Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” Ember blinked at Twilight and tilted her head. “Err, what?” “Oh,” Twilight blushed. “It's a pony thing. Spike, can you stay here with Smoulder? Just in case Ember remembers anything more.” They both nodded, and with that, Twilight left, unaware of the subtle glow from behind the bedside lamp.