//------------------------------// // Bonus Scene: The Founding of a Nation // Story: Learning to see Luna, the story of Vivid Colour. // by Hope //------------------------------// The sun rose over the blasted volcanic wastes of the South East coast of the Equestrian continent. The pale blue sky illuminated brown, orange, even vivid reds in the rocks, with grey channels of old lava flows broken up with sparse vegetation and the carved out paths of winter streams and rivers. Torch sat on a stone at the top of a hill, looking down over the landscape, feeling numb. He was a dragon, dark teal scales covering his body and orange wings setting a contrast to the coal-colored leather shirt which acted as a slight armor, and a marker of his rank. It also hid his chest. “Commander?” another dragon asked quietly. “I’m not your commander anymore. That title was given by griffins,” Torch said grimly. There were a few blessed moments of silence, before he was bothered again. “Torch, what are we going to do?” He stood slowly and turned to look at the crowd of dragons. Beaten down by the griffins, turned into soldiers and then beaten again by the ponies of Equestria. They were pathetic, half dead and heartless. “We are going to survive,” Torch said, his brow furrowing in anger. “All of you! We are walking off into the desert, and finding a place to hold our ground. This land is ours now, no pony or griffin will take it from us!” “But… there are no houses out there,” one of the others objected. “No good food…” “And what is your obsession with their food, hmm? When have you last eaten a gemstone?” Torch asked, to a crowd of confused mumbles. “You all grew up among Griffins, but my parents held onto our culture! We remembered who we are! Come, come with me, and I will show you what dragons can be.” He expected and received a cheer from the soldiers that had served under him, and from many of the men, but the women looked instead to Spark, the chief engineer, and Torch's rival. She stepped to the front of her group. "Dragons can be anything," Spark said angrily. "Anything we desire. Why should we follow you, just because you were violent enough for the Griffins to appreciate?" “Because I am the strongest leader available. Least likely to crumble. The dragon kings of the bygone age ruled because they were strong!” he said, rising to her challenge. But instead of attacking him, completing the challenge like he’d expected, she took her staff and tapped him gently on the chest. He winced, just a little, and Spark’s eyes narrowed. “We need to talk,” she said sternly. “All of you, we will convene about rulership in a moment, but I must speak with Torch first.” The women nodded in agreement, and though they were bewildered, the men followed suit, returning to their idle activities as Spark walked off down the hill’s slope, Torch following after a moment. “If you intend to attack me in secret--” he began. “Take off your uniform,” Spark said simply, crossing her arms, her staff still at the ready. “Why?” he asked, scowling. “It’s of griffin make, and until I see you without it, I’ll believe that you are beholden to them.” He understood, but held back, frowning as he put a hand to his chest. “This armor… I earned. If I removed the patches, is that sufficient?” Spark narrowed her eyes, and stepped closer. He stepped back. "What are you hiding?" she asked as she lunged forward and grabbed his armor with surprising strength, yanking him closer before undoing the clasps and pulling it off, to reveal... At first, Spark thought there was no purpose behind the armor, but then she realized that Torch's chest scales had been clipped, removing the points which some dragons had on their chest scales. It was seen as a slightly feminine feature, but hardly something requiring physical modification to correct. Torch snatched the armor back and quickly put it on, as Spark stood there, befuddled. "I don't understand," Spark finally admitted. "I don't like my chest, alright? Never have, so let me wear this!" Spark nodded, holding up her hands in a gesture of peace before drawing her dagger and carefully cutting off the insignia from his shoulders. "There, and I'm going to be your co-ruler," she said simply. "Noooooo," Torch said, shaking his head. "No, absolutely not. Women simply can't--" The dagger was placed at his throat, and Spark looked decidedly unimpressed. "Why do you want to rule?" Torch asked after a moment of thought, trying not to think about coming so far just to be killed. "Because I don't trust you to care for every dragon as you should, and I will not allow you to rule at all, if I cannot ensure that those under my care are tended to." He regarded her, and pondered the idea, eyes narrowing as he fretted over the ways she could seize power and destroy everything. But ultimately, he would need allies. "Fine," he sighed, and she withdrew her dagger. “We will rule together, and we aren’t going to abandon some of the better aspects of Griffin culture, but we are going to get rid of their desires. No more seizing of land, no more fighting the ponies, we’ve lost too much in that useless fight.” Torch straightened his vest and frowned, looking out across the wastes, the Southern steppes and mountains abandoned when volcanic activity had ripped the migration routes of the buffalo into small pieces, still streaked with lava streams in some places, still burning. “We will end up surviving mostly on stone,” Torch admitted quietly, looking back to her over his shoulder. “If we can find gemstones, all the better, but I am not expecting more than granite and feldspar, if we can even find anything but Pāhoehoe in the first place.” “And once they adjust, once they forget the taste of baked goods, they will be fine,” Spark reassured him. “But for now, we will need shelter and ways to defend ourselves if the ponies or griffins come after us. You said your parents were steeped in culture. Did that include lavashaping?” He nodded slowly. “They talked about it, and I can guide you through it, but I can’t do it myself, my vest will burn.” “If I kept everyone away, would you show me, and leave your vest here, so noone else sees?” Spark asked, more gently now than she had been just minutes ago. Torch hesitated, but knew it would be quicker, it would help more dragons. He nodded, and after she instructed the other dragons to stay back, they walked off down the hill towards the nearest lava flow. He took the vest off and set it aside, before wading into the lava, the waves of heat rolling over him and briefly taking his breath away. It had been so very long since he’d felt anything like it, the pressure against his scales like swimming in molasses. At the same time, the energy in the lava made him shiver, it was like life was being breathed back into him. He dug into the flow with his claws and pulled up a glob of the stuff, before concentrating and repeating the motion, and this time a strand was drawn up. It stayed connected to the mass by his innate magic as a dragon, and so he drew out a rope of the substance and laid it on the ground next to the flow, forming a strip of stone once it cooled. After repeating the process a few more times, he had a low wall. “And you’re doing that by pulling with…. Your energy?” Spark asked as she set her staff aside and tried the same. It took time, but eventually she was able to draw the lava from the stream and lay it out in the same way, bricks of new stone being laid out together until a small cave had been formed. Tired, but grinning, Spark looked to Torch. “Thank you. This, I think will be a good start. Together with all the others we can make shelter.” Torch was brushing bits of cooling stone off his body, and putting his vest back on with a nervous smile. “I’m glad. We can have some security, and begin rebuilding our society.” “It’s not going to be like you imagine,” Spark said simply, picking up her staff and standing proudly over Torch, the nervous leader. “Oh?” he asked, grimacing. “What sort of things will not be happening?” “We aren’t going to have an army. We won’t be minting fancy golden coins. No great empire,” she insisted. As they started walking back towards the hill, he sighed and nodded. “Those traditions…. Required the artifacts and great historical dragons which led the empire,” he admitted. “The best we can hope for is a tribal society which stands strong.” “I appreciate your rationality in this,” Spark said approvingly. “Now, when we summit the hill, kiss me.” “Wha?!” Torch tripped and almost fell over before looking at Spark with wide eyes. “If I am to be co-ruler, then we shall be related by marriage, so that those under us believe in our unity,” Spark explained, sounding almost clinical about the whole thing. “We should start with a simple kiss.” Torch stopped walking, cheeks hotter than lava, eyes still wide open in shock, as Spark stopped ahead of him, one hand on her hip and the other leaning on her staff as she looked at Torch expectantly. “I’ve… never kissed another dragon,” Torch admitted softly, looking away in embarrassment. Spark sighed, and walked up to him, taking his chin gently in her claws and lifting it, to kiss him with a surprisingly gentle touch of her lips. He was still nervous, still uncertain about it all, but she did not force him and was not rough. He had time to get past his fears and enjoy the kiss for a moment before it ended and she let go of his chin. “Better?” she asked, searching his expression for signs of joy or upset. “Could you do that again, brave warrior?” He cleared his throat and grinned nervously. “Yes, I… think that I could, yes.” They ascended the hill, and as they came into view of the others, Torch saw the hope, awe, and fear in their eyes. This was a new beginning, this was his people. They waited until most of the gathered dragons were watching, and then they kissed. No words were needed to convey the state of things to the gathered people, and Torch was thankful for that. He did not want to explain to them all how they would be ruling together, because he did not know what form it would take. Spark had said marriage, but Torch did not even understand the concept. So he silently watched her teach others how to manipulate lava, and he took in the awe of a new nation being born under his watch. Meanwhile, at a safe distance Princess Luna observed from a mountaintop, flanked by her generals. “Well, that problem seems to have solved itself,” she said, sighing as she finally relaxed the tension in her wings. “We will advise all the nearby settlements that the Eastern Badlands are to be avoided,” General Pie said as he did his best to sketch out the boundaries of the vast valley, torn by volcanic activity. Finally, the war won and refugees settled, Luna returned home to Canterlot.