//------------------------------//
// 17: War Council 
// Story: Son of a Dragon 
// by The Bricklayer 
//------------------------------//

“So....” Spike breathed out. “That’s the situation.”

The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. The location was the Castle of Dragons. A single tall tower sat high in the mountain peaks just outside of the natural boundaries of any of the five realms. It belonged to all dragons and yet belonged to none. It was, simply put, a neutral ground where dragon representatives from all five corners of the realms could meet and discuss big political situations. 

Such as the one bubbling to the surface, and currently threatening to boil over just now. The Matter of Queen Chrysalis the Great, as it was starting to be called. 

“I don’t see why it’s our problem,” Lateef said, the Dream Weavers dragon hovering above the ground, and looking like he was about to fall asleep on the spot. It wasn’t out of boredom, at least Spike didn’t think so. It was more likely the simple fact that he had been asked to stay up way later in the day then he would have liked. The Dream Weavers did their best work after sundown. “She’s hardly bothered anyone for generations.”

“Damn it, man!” Nestor snarled, slamming one meaty fist on the table in front of them. Cups and plates rattled, wine goblets spilling their contents. “Just because she isn’t causing trouble now doesn’t mean she won’t suddenly decide: “Ulp, those dragons are getting too big for their britches, and I quite like their castles!” in the future!”

“You’re a crafter Nestor,” Lateef said. “What do you know in the ways of battle?”

“A fair bit more than you, I think,” Nestor snapped. “See these arms of mine? You think I got them by sitting around weaving pleasant dreams for dragonkind?”

“It’s not just pleasant dreams we weave…” Lateef growled.

“Is that a threat?” Maximos, the current representative for the Peace Keepers said as he jumped towards his friend’s defense. 

“More like a simple observation,” Lateef said with another tired yawn. “A… reminder.”

“You know,” Maximos said. “If you’re so tired you can barely stay away, why are you even bothered to be here? Go back to your bed, curl up, and dream away. It’s what you do isn’t it?”

Spike knew they normally weren’t this bad, at least he hoped not. It had to be the looming threat of Chrysalis. It just had to be. She scared everyone, and with good reason. She was the mare behind great calamities right and left, manipulating everyone like chess pieces on a board. Manipulating them till everything fell into place, and she never had to even leave her castle half of the time.

Spike’s breath caught in his throat. What if… what if one of her drones or worse Chrysalis herself was in the room at this very moment? What if she was playing everyone like puppets on strings right now? This was how she worked, after all. Sowing discord, and distrust. 

But… no. He couldn’t think like that, he couldn’t give in to fear and paranoia. He couldn’t let her win. 

“I will have you know when the time to fight is upon us, I am your first line of defense,” Lateef said the air suddenly growing more oppressive. Thunder rumbled in the background as the room darkened. “It is we who give our enemies nightmares, and wear them down before they even reach the battlefront! An exhausted army is an in-effective army, is it not?”

“And what if they somehow manage to press on through, in spite of all this? What if they go for you?” Maximos reasoned. “You and your dragons, their capabilities are well known. A smart enough enemy would go for you first. You and your dragons have had to barely lift a claw to fight. You’d be easy pickings!”

“I assure you,” Lateef said. “Catching us off guard as you propose is hardly as easy as you think. In our realm, our power is greater than ever.”

“Yes, but-”

“I think we’ve argued the point enough,” Nestor said, massaging his temples with a claw. “Lateef and his dragons can defend themselves. We have more important matters to focus on as is…”

“Yes, like Queen Chrysalis,” Maximos said, his signature mace laying next to his chair. “Is it not our way to help those in need? Thorax needs us, his hive needs us!”

Zantor begged to differ, the skinny gold dragon placing his hat on the table. “Thorax needs us, yes, but does the rest of his hive need us? They may not want our help. In fact, by all accounts, they seem to be perfectly content under Chrysalis’ rule. It’s not our place to interfere.”

“Is it?” Bubba asked, gnawing on a piece of wheat. “Do the drones even know they’re suffering?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Zantor asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Think about it,” Bubba said. “It is their way of life, and-”

“Exactly!” Zantor butted in. “It is their way of life, and it’s not our place to change it.”

“But it’s wrong!” Bubba shouted back.

“To us yes,” Zantor said. “To them, no. Look at it this way. The drones? To them stealing love is as simple as breathing. Chrysalis has taught them this. Just because one drone has realized it’s wrong, doesn’t mean the rest will up and suddenly decide it is. They like their lot in life.”

“Only because they know no difference!” Bubba roared, spitting out his piece of wheat. “They’ve had nobody to teach them right from wrong. They’ve only had Chrysalis, who I might add is not the most stable of parents.”

“To them she is,” Zantor replied. “To them, she is life. She is their Queen. If you were asked to defect from your Queen, or King, or whatever, what would your first answer be?”

“That’s besides the point!” Bubba said. “We have no ruler!”

“But if we did?” Zantor asked calmly, flipping through his cards.

“I… I would stay loyal, I guess…” Bubba admitted.

“Exactly,” Zantor replied. “No changeling drone unless given a good solid reason, would ever defect. They don’t have any reason to defect. Why would they? From all accounts, they’re as happy as can be!”

“Listen here magician!” Bubba hissed out. “After Smolder and Garble’s parents passed, Tiamat bless their souls, I tried to do right by them. I’m a parent, and any parent should tell you that the first thing you do is treat your kid right. Raise them up all proper like. I don’t think Chrysalis is raising her kids all proper like, do you?”

“It is still not our place to interfere,” Zantor said. “The political boundaries are too strong. If we were to attack the Hive, our standing with the fellow nations would be in grave danger.”

“You’re worried about political standing when… when…” Bubba almost snapped when he took several deep breaths to calm himself. He looked at Nestor. “My apologies.”

“Please, learn to control your temper,” Nestor said. “Nothing will ever be solved by getting angry and fighting amongst ourselves.”

“...as if anything ever will be solved by this point,” Spike thought to himself traitorously. He suppressed a groan. “This is turning out so well, isn’t it?”





“It’s not going well, is it?” Thorax said with a sad little sigh, sliding back against the wall. His wings buzzed nervously. He could hear the shouting from one floor above him.

“These types of things never do,” Cynder said with a weary nod. She was dressed in full armor, with her sword strapped to her. She was one of several bodyguards stationed throughout the castle, ready to spring into action upon a moment’s notice. “Your Queen has long been a source of fear amongst dragonkind. Changelings in general actually.”

“Explains some of the looks I’ve been getting since I got here…” Thorax mumbled, eyeing another heavily muscled dragon. Thorax waved nervously but got only a glare in response. Great Hivemother, how jacked were these dragons? Was it a requirement or something?

“Fear’s a powerful deterrent,” Cynder continued. “A previous Queen, Carapace, slaughtered many a dragon elder. For some, the memories are still fresh. The stories of her wraith have been handed down from generation to generation. I grew up with several.”

“And… and what do you think of me?” Thorax asked nervously, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer.

“I judge a creature by their actions, not the circumstances of their birth,” Cynder said warmly, kindly. Her voice was the same motherly tone she used when speaking to her son. In hindsight, Thorax would realize, this was where Spike got his kindness. Not from his father, but from her.

“A-And what do you think of my actions?” Thorax asked.

“You are an interesting sort,” Cynder said.

“Good interesting, or bad interesting?” Thorax asked.

“What do you think?” Cynder asked. “You’re… well, you. To think that one small drone could potentially change our whole views on changelings.”

“Potentially,” Thorax repeated. “Because right now, I don’t think anyone here is accepting me with open arms…”

“Change always starts small, does it not?” Cynder asked. “Roam wasn’t built in a day, and neither will you be winning over all of dragon kind in a single week. You’ll have to play the long game, win over hearts and minds. It starts with us, my family. Your family. Then it spreads out, does it not?” 

“I sometimes think I should have turned into a dragon, and won them over that way…” Thorax mumbled.

“And when your disguise inevitably failed?” Cynder asked as she raised an eyebrow. “The dragons would feel betrayed. It is better to win them over as yourself, than live a lie and face judgment for when that lie falls apart.”

“You’re… you’re not at all what I thought you’d be, you know that right?” Thorax admitted.

“Oh, and what did you think I’d be?” Cynder asked.

“I… I dunno. It’s just when you hear someone called ‘The Terror of the Skies’ you don’t immediately think of someone like you. Someone so warm, and so kind. Someone so…”

“Motherly?” Cynder asked. “Yes, well, as I’ve found parenthood has a way of changing someone really. I was so angry before, you know that right? Didn’t really care about anyone, except perhaps my future husband along with Maximos and maybe Nestor. I’ve been blessed really.”

“I… I want to be a parent someday,” Thorax admitted. “Maybe not now, but… someday. Raise my kids right, do everything that witch I used to call my Queen didn’t do for me.”

“You’d make a good parent,” Cynder said with a slow nod of approval. “I can honestly say you would.”

“R-Really, you think so?” Thorax asked. “I… I wish I shared your confidence, really. I don’t actually know how to raise kids…”

“Well, it’s not like they come with instruction manuals!” Cynder drawled.

“It’s just… I’m afraid. Afraid of repeating the cycle. Afraid of repeating the same cycle that Chrysalis started with me,” Thorax admitted. “All my life I’ve grown up with her and her teachings and yet…”

“Listen to yourself,” Cynder said, lowering herself down to meet Thorax’s eyes. “You know what’s right, and what’s wrong. You know what Chrysalis did to you and to your hive mates is wrong. You know what not to repeat. What she did to you… it’s beyond the pale really. But you know it’s wrong, correct?”

“Y-Yeah, I do…” Thorax said.

“Then you know what to avoid,” Cynder said firmly. “You’ll not become another Chrysalis. I know it. I have faith in you. Spike does as well, and so does his mate. Isn’t that really all you need?”

“Hey… do you think… No… They wouldn’t…” Thorax thought to himself aloud.

“I think they probably would, actually!” Cynder said.

“You don’t even know what I was thinking about!” Thorax replied.

“I mean, I can probably guess. Smolder’s told me the way you patrol her nest, Spike as well. You want to be those eggs’ godfather, right?” 

“I… yeah, I do,” Thorax said. “I’m not sure why. Is it love, is it wanting me to redeem myself from Chrysalis’ mistakes? Is it me wanting to improve my own reputation? I’m… just not sure. Maybe it’s all of them.”

“Whatever it is,” Cynder said. “I think you’ll do a great job.”





“So what do we do then?” Maximos had to ask. “Chrysalis is out there, biding her time. I doubt she’ll just let Thorax walk away.”

“Assuming she even knows,” Lateef pointed out. “Or cares even. What’s the loss of one small drone to a large hive like that? Thorax, to her, is beneath notice. A drop in the ocean.”

“He does raise a good point…” Zantor admitted. “Oh, I have no doubt Chrysalis knows her drone is missing but why would she even care?”

“Because she’s petty,” Bubba said. “We all know this. She’s an egotistical witch. Paranoid too. If she believes one changeling can betray her, -never mind being proven right- she’ll think the others can as well!”

“If she’s really that paranoid, why hasn’t she slaughtered her whole hive?” Lateef said. “Just to prevent the possibility?”

“Because she’s not stupid,” Nestor returned. “She needs workers. It’s not like she can gather slaves either. Nations would notice their subjects going missing. Chrysalis thrives by not drawing attention to herself. She works best from the shadows.”

“She sure drew a huge amount of attention to herself at that wedding a few years back,” Bubba pointed out.

“I suspect she didn’t intend to. Her plans were thwarted,” Zantor said sagely. “Her plan, I suspect, was to kidnap and replace. Suck all of Canterlot’s ponies dry, including the Princesses of the Sun and Moon and then replace them with her own puppet rulers. She’d control both a major supply of love and a major economy. Win win for her, eh?”

“Thank Bahamut that never came to pass…” Maximos muttered. “But we’re getting off the subject. If Chrysalis is as petty as friend Bubba proclaims, she’s going to be pissed.”

“But pissed enough to invade a whole country?” Lateef asked, stroking his beard.

“Who’s to say she hasn’t already started?” Nestor asked worriedly. “Any one of us could be changelings and we’d never notice until it was too late.”

“Nestor!” Maximos scolded. “Don’t joke about such matters. Don’t even think about it!”

“Who said he was joking?” Lateef asked. “It is a distinct possibility, don’t lie…”

“Okay, assuming this is all true, how would we even find her drones?” Nestor asked.

“I can have Eldrid and the others whip up some potions to find the imposters. It’d be simple to just slip them in the water,” Zantor said. “And that would be that!”

“Hold up,” Bubba asked nervously. “Should we really be talking so openly about plans like that? As Nestor suggested, it is entirely possible a changeling is in the room. Any one of us could be one!”

“So, better for them to know we’re coming for them!” Maximos bellowed, raising his mace up high. “Let them cower in fear, and know all dragons are after them!”

“Besides,” Nestor said calmly. “Assuming any one of us is a changeling, there would be no way to prove it currently. They have our memories, so any questions asked would be answered exactly.”

“Grandad’s right,” Spike said, his scales bristling at the possibility. “It’s not like we can just easily prove any one of us is a changeling. Hell, for all I know I could be speaking to five changelings, or you could, or you could, or you could!” he went on pointing to each dragon in the room. 

“So basically, we all have to assume both the worst and the best of each other?” Zantor asked. “Assume that every one of us is a changeling?” 

“Mhmm, yes,” Nestor said. “There is nothing we can do but assume that.”

“And live our lives in paranoia?” Bubba asked. “I don’t like it. We could all end up slaughtering each other in fear before the day is out!”

“Wait wait wait,” Zantor said raising his arms in a placating gesture. “Let’s calm down here and think for a moment. If we were all changelings, plotting to kill each other, don’t you think we’d all know who is and who isn’t a changeling? We all would have had some secret message or code. I don’t remember one, do you?”

“It could all be too easy to lie about not remembering,” Spike pointed out. “I think if any one of us were a changeling, and didn’t know about it… we’d all think to ourselves, hey maybe we should assume every one of us is a changeling. I think we’re all smarter than that, don’t you? If we were all drones, we’d not even consider the possibility of accidentally raising our arms against one another. Wouldn’t want to kill off your fellow drone and raise the ire of your queen right?”

He looked around the room as if to dare anyone to argue. Spike gazed at Nestor, then at Maximos, then at Zantor. He gazed at Bubba, and then at Lateef. He dared anyone to argue this.

“Right…” Maximos admitted with a little slow nod, low murmurs of agreement to follow. “As ever, leave it up to the young to consider the wisest of choices!”

“So… what, do we just go on about our business?” Zantor asked nervously. “We all leave and pretend to not think about the possibility changelings have infiltrated the highest of levels?”

“We do exactly that,” Nestor said. “We do not let fear rule us. We show Chrysalis we are not afraid. Life goes on. Zantor, prepare that potion. In a few days, we shall know who is a changeling and who is not!”

More murmurs of agreement were soon to follow. Spike wasn’t entirely sure what had been settled, if anything at all. But he knew fear had passed. If only he could tell Thorax that Queen Chrysalis was no longer anyone’s concern…