Today was a slow day for Topaz, and that meant it was a good day. A slow day for her meant dragons weren’t sick or hurt. Even her young apprentice, seeing how little there was to do had a medical journal opened, reading page after page to remind herself of certain tonics and balms that cured rarer ailments found in their lands. Gemstone was a kind, prudent dragon. Always speaking respectfully, standing up straight, and ready to help any way she could. She was also darling with whelps. Making them laugh when they were sick, easing their fright when they were worried, and firm when they needed to be mended. Topaz was proud to have her as a student, and she was certain that whatever drake took her as a mate would be thankful to have her as their partner. Especially with how good she was with children. Gemstone quickly shut her book when she took notice of Smolder and joined her by her side, happy to be spending time with someone so adorable.
Smolder herself was having a good day, despite her grounding. Her parents were being especially cruel to her and her little brother today. Spike had to go to a gathering with his mother, with Garble accompanying them, while her father sent her to assist her great-grandmother. Flare’s idea had woefully backfired. While she was disappointed to be missing out on a gathering, she was more than happy to be put to work. With a mortar and pestle, Smolder combined several leaves, roots, and water, to make an ointment that most dragons used to disinfect wounds. At least, she was trying to. Smolder was pounding the stone rod into the bowl, forcing Gemstone to come to her aid.
“Smolder, you’re not using it correctly.” Gemstone took Smolder’s hand in hers and began to make circular motions. “Grind them like this.”
Smolder nodded and did as she was shown once Gemstone let go of her hand. Soon, a thick brown paste formed. “I did it!” she declared, showing Gemstone and her grandmother the ointment.
“Very good, Smolder!” Gemstone said.
“Indeed,” Topaz said. “Gemstone, try to teach her how to suture a wound. It might be good for her to know.”
“Does that mean I need to fix a cut? You’re not hurt, are you?” Smolder asked her elders.
“No, no, nothing like that,” Gemstone assured. “Your grandmother as this statue that allows you to practice. I don’t know what it’s made up, but it’s very useful.”
“It’s called a suture manakin,” Topaz said. “It’s important for young healers to know how to close gashes a dragon may suffer when fighting. It helps the wound heal and prevents too much blood lose.”
“Where’d you get that?”
“Scavenging. Gemstone, if you would?”
Gemstone nodded, scuttled to the back of the cave, and brought back a scarred manakin. It was littered with stitches and lacerations, each closed with different colored string. Gemstone, using her razor-sharp claw, slashed open a new wound and presented it to Smolder, along with a curved needle and thread, and a scissor looking tool that Gemstone called a driver.
Smolder looked at the needle, and then at the mannequin. Her stomach twisted itself into a knot as she recalled her brother’s arms. “Are we doing this because I hurt Spike?”
“No, nothing like that, Smolder.” Gemstone got as low as she could to meet Smolder’s gaze at her level. “This is just something that you should know how to do. Besides, if you ever assist here again, it would be a great help if you know how to suture a cut. It’s much safer for a smaller dragon to tend to the wounds of whelps than it would be for a larger dragon, like how I helped Spike when he was hurt, and not your grandmother.”
“Oh, that makes sense.”
“Smart girl. Now come here. First thing you need to do is gently blow fire on the needle to clean it. It’s crude, but effective.” Smolder obeyed, giggling as she did so. Whelps loved using their fire breath, and Smolder was no different. “Next we make our first insertion, through the skin, like so.” Gemstone meticulously showed Smolder her suturing technique for the first stitch, turned the tools over to Smolder, and held her hands to guide her as she made the second stitch. On the third, Smolder made a minor mistake, being that her knot was too tight, and she dropped the needle driver on the fourth, the fifth stitch was too loose, however, the sixth stitch and forward were perfection.
“Very good, Smolder,” Topaz said, looking over her work. “What do you think, Gemstone?”
“It’s good, a bit too forceful when entering and exiting, but most of the knots are perfect.”
Smolder couldn’t help but grin as she was showered with praise. “Is there anything else I can do?”
“I need a few more creams and balms made. Take this book and find the ingredients.” Topaz quickly made three folds in a journal, detailing the ingredients for three balms she was running low on. They were used as disinfectants, rash treatments, and ointments for joint pains. “Do a good job and I might have something for you and your siblings.”
Smolder nodded and quickly went to work upon receiving the journal. The moment it happened, Gemstone’s mouth nearly fell open. When she started out as Topaz’s apprentice, it took her months to be trusted with a book, yet her master had just given one to a six-year-old on her first day. “Master, is it wise to just give her a journal? A fragile, irreplaceable journal? I don’t think she understands what it is she’s holding. I don’t think she even knows how to read!”
“Of course, I do! I’m not like the dragons my brother plays with,” Smolder huffed.
This time Gemstone’s mouth did fall open. It had taken her nearly a year to learn to read, longer to learn to write. The only dragons that bothered to learn were shamans and priests, because they were the only ones that needed to use it. Not even the dragon nobility knew how to read. “You know how to read? But you’re six!”
Topaz chuckled, finding a glimmer of humor in her apprentice’s bewilderment. “Oh, Gemstone, you have no idea how impressive she is. Smolder, how long have you and your siblings been reading?”
“Garble started when he was five, and read to me every night I asked him. I started to learn when I was four! Spike’s already learning and Garble sometimes has Spike read a full sentence from his book! It's hard for him since he's still learning his sounds.”
“You can write?”
“Blame me if you must,” Topaz said. “I wanted to make sure they had some skills at their disposal, aside from fighting prowess.”
“That’s amazing!” Gemstone cried. “Would it be okay if I watch her? I need to see it for myself.” And watch Smolder she did. She was impressed to say the least. Smolder had to read aloud, and stumbled on a few words, but she followed the instructions in the book to a T, and soon began producing the medicine. Six years old, and she was already putting a dragon like her to shame. Just to test her, Gemstone asked Smolder to make copies of the recipes. She watched Smolder pick up a piece of charcoal and write. Her hand writing needed some work, but Smolder didn’t misspell a single word and the letters were all legible. To Gemstone’s chagrin, Smolder even had slightly better handwriting than she did.
“You are a brilliant little girl, you know that?” Gemstone said as Smolder emptied the balms into various jars. For Gemstone, this would be considered tedious work, but for Smolder it was about as fun for her as fighting, no doubt thanks to the promise of a gift from her grandmother. In total, Smolder managed to make nine jars of each balm. More than what Topaz was expecting. A promise was a promise, and so, Smolder was given three books. One for her, one for each of her brothers.
Smolder was instantly taken with her present. Its title read in glittering gold letters ‘The Princess Promenade’. It was a the first in a series of books about princesses of various species attending a high-end Academy while having misadventures, charming young knights and princes with their beauty and personality, and solving the occasional mystery. The cover showed all the main characters sitting around a table for tea in a garden. Smolder couldn’t help but marvel at the colorful gowns they wore. One drawing particularly caught her eye. “There’s a pretty dragon wearing a dress in it,” she whispered. She read the first few pages, before lighting up and letting out a gasp. “She’s snarky!” She cried, stars glistening in her eyes. Giggling to herself, she sat near the mouth of the cave taking her time to absorb every word and admire every illustrations of the princesses, their jewelry, and most of all, their dresses. How she wanted their dresses. Alas, it was but a dream for her, and she was content with that.
“Master, where did those books come from?” Gemstone asked as she scrutinized the book Smolder was reading. They were too well made, perfection in fact. The books they made were functional, but lacked any professionalism in their design. And this book held no facts, just fantasy. There were pictures of various creatures, from dragons, to yaks, to ponies. Seeing the mere illustration of an equine made a shiver crawl up Gemstone’s spine, yet, Smolder seemed to not mind the creature.
“I found it in an old pony building,” Her master said. “Why?”
The answer put Gemstone on edge. From the stories she’d been told, ponies would often lure whelps away from their caves with promises of gems, gold, and other treasures in order to get them alone. Once secluded, the child was either caged and sold off as a slave or a pet, or skinned, be they alive or dead. She could only imagine them doing the same with Smolder with the types of books they made.
Gemstone took a step back, and leaned toward her master, whispering ever so quietly, “Is it wise to give her such gifts? What if a pony saw you? What if she goes looking for one? This could be dangerous.”
“It’s fine. Like I said, I got it from an old, abandoned building.”
It was the first lie she’d ever told her apprentice.
Months Earlier
Topaz waited at the entrance to the town of Squires Gate as working stallions checked and rechecked boxes filled with her purchases. As far as she knew, she was one of five dragons that had a relationship with the town, a town of ponies to be exact.
How did such a relationship bloom? There was much she could do in the Dragon Lands to heal her kin, but she lacked supplies that ponies had in abundance. The Yaks couldn’t help, they usually smashed the supplies before she could get them. Hippogriffs ran at the sight of her, cowards that they were. Griffons were rude and demanding to such a degree Topaz would rather die than barter with them. Changelings were not to be trusted, leaving ponies as the remaining logical choice. They helped her once before, long, long, long ago, so she bet her life that they would do so again. She won out on that bet. For some specs of gold, she was given needles, disinfectants, and other such things to mend wounds.
She’d maintained a good relationship with the town ever since. Easy, as she knew most of the ponies from when they were foals, and still made the effort to see how they were doing. One of the guards, Azure Sky had wedded Choir Song three months ago, and already the two were now expecting a foal. Tulip Smile, the towns elementary School Teacher, had just finished expanding the school house to make room for a larger class this year. Wood Work, a burly stallion, was more than happy to help her with the renovations when asked. He took her out to a nice restaurant when he and his team were done, part of the payment plan he claimed. Iron Mallet had just taken on Steel Nail as a blacksmithing apprentice. Then there was an old stallion, the oldest living pony to know her, Page Turner.
The stallions had just finished securing the last bit of supplies in the crates, before Page Turner came bearing two saddlebags filled with books. The old stallion took his time, his joints popping and creaking with every move he made, before putting the books on the ground before her. These were also her orders. She wanted to get some new books now that Spike was learning to read. Of course, she needed multiple, something for Smolder and Garble, and a few books for herself.
“There we are. If these don’t get those kids reading nothing will.” Page Turner was an old stallion. His skin wrinkled and sagged, his bones creaked every time he moved an inch, and he grew more and more tired with each passing day. He was too old to still be running his bookshop, much too old, but he persisted out of love for his vocation. He was ninety-four, his wife had passed a year prior, and his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren had lives of their own. They still visited, but it was growing increasingly rare compared to when they were all younger. He still enjoyed Topaz’s visits, hard not to as he’d known her since he was born. “Anything else I can get for you?”
Topaz looked over the crates, and the books, before giving Page Turner a smile. “No, this is plenty, Little One, thank you.” She gave the ponies a gold rock each before leaving with her purchases. She returned to her cave without anyone noticing, as she liked it. She was careful who she told about the village, and even more careful when she visited. Consorting with ponies was close to treason, and she didn’t need that knowledge reaching the ears of certain clans. She only revealed her relationship with the village to the most trustworthy of her apprentices. So far, only four of the twenty-four she’d trained knew, and if all went well, Gemstone would be the fifth.
She often fantasized about showing her great-grandchildren the village. But that was unlikely. The Ironscale clan was known for their disdain for ponies, and that scorn was not unfounded. She often prayed that it would be different for Spike and his siblings, but even that was unlikely. Still, it would have been nice to introduce them to a stallion like Page Turner, or some of the foals that ran around the town, causing mischief and making general nuisances of themselves in the most adorable of ways. Deep in her heart, she knew it would never happen.
She couldn’t have known just how wrong she was.
Topaz could see the worry in Gemstone’s eyes. Smolder was still blissfully unaware of the growing tension in the room; she too was engrossed in her book to notice. Topaz let out a sigh. “It has costs and benefits, like most things in the world. The books I give them help them learn to read, Gemstone, and having some intelligence will serve them all down the road.”
“We could give them a medical journal to read.”
“Yes, because when I think of a whelp, my first thought turns to their love of phallus rashes, balms, and how to get rid of wing break! Would your little brother be interested in such a thing?” She watched as Gemstone tried to retort, but she inevitably closed her mouth and pouted. “Worry not about them and ponies. My descendants are Ironscales now. No matter what they read, how much they enjoy a book, or what ponies write. I assure you; their opinions of equine will sour. It’s only a matter of time.”
“If you say so.” Gemstone said, seeing that pressing the issue further was pointless. With that, she retreated to the back of the cave and waited for the day to end. Hours passed, but no dragon seemed to need their services that day. Topaz didn’t mind. All it meant was that no one was hurt. Smolder was more than happy to read her book, even if it was at a snail’s pace.
It was late in the afternoon when Flare came to retrieve his daughter. As he entered the cave, he instantly knew something was amiss. He gave the air a sniff once, twice, three times, before recognizing the scent. “That smell, it smells like pony,” Flare said. There was so much venom in his voice that Gemstone very nearly mistook him for a cobra. Smolder didn’t notice it though; she was much too happy. She ran to her father bringing with her the presents.
“Daddy, daddy, look what Grandma Topaz gave me!” She began to go into detail about her princess book. “There’s a dragon princess in this book, and she’s snarky! Oh, and she’s in love with a changeling prince, and has this best friend whose super shy who likes this griffon, and-” She was cut off when her father put a claw to her mouth. He was relieved that it was the books that reeked of equine, but his mood nearly turned to wrath knowing who’d given her such a gift.
“That sounds very interesting Smolder, but it’s time to go. You can tell me all about your book on the way back to the cave.” He looked towards Topaz; his glare able to pierce diamonds. “Thank your grandmother for such a-” He forced a smile, “-thoughtful gift.”
“Okay!” Smolder gave Topaz’s snout a hug. “Thank you, Grandma!” She said, before joining her father and leaving for the day.
“Smolder, I need to ask you something,” Flare said, once the two of them were in the air. “You do know not to trust ponies, correct? They can be dangerous.” There couldn't have been a bigger understatement. Dangerous couldn’t begin to describe what butchering bastards ponies were.
“I know!” Smolder said with a happy chirp, still unaware of her Father’s worry. “I like their books though. They’re really fun!”
He allowed himself a smile. Like most whelps, she was naive and innocent, blissfully unaware of any past conflicts with the ponies. He hated pushing, but he needed to make sure she knew some basic rules regarding them, for his own sake. “But you know never to accept books from ponies, correct? Even if they offered you a hoard of them.”
“I know!” Smolder said, becoming slightly annoyed. “Why are you asking me? Mama already told me not to trust them.”
“Just stupid thoughts. Fathers worry about their children, especially their daughters. Worrying and making sure you know certain rules is important. I don’t need to remind you what can happen when you break a rule, right?” She shook her head. “Good. Now, you know to keep an eye on Spike, especially when he’s given a gift, correct?”
Smolder nodded. Everyone knew about Tiamat’s Curse, otherwise known as Greed Growth. Smolder was careful never to give Spike too much, lest he grow out of control, but one book wouldn’t hurt. If by chance he did get too greedy, Garble and her would make sure Spike saw reason, even if that meant fighting him for real. It was better to have Spike hurt then turn into a monster.
“Good,” her father said. Flare gave his wings a flap and hurried along to the cave. When the siblings finally reunited that evening, her brothers instantly tore into their respective book.
Garble was given ‘The Poetry Compendium’, and Spike received ‘Burnferno, Warrior from Within’. It was the first book in a poorly written adventure series tailored for children and those wishing to live a power fantasy. The dragon slew his foes with his fire breath and snappy one-liners.
Garble was silent as he read through his book with an unseen concentration. There was a section on sonnets, but also new types of poems he’d never even heard of: Limericks, free verse, rhymed, epics, haikus, and so much more. The best part? There was a section for Garble to write his own poems, something he planned on doing soon.
Spike was more than eager to start reading after seeing his book’s cover. Much like his sister, his book’s cover, featuring a dragon knight holding aloft a blazing sword, made him want to read every word. He didn’t get too far on his own, but before bed that night, Garble sat Spike on his lap, allowing them to read Burnferno together, while Smolder next to them her head resting against Garble’s shoulder. It was the first night in a long time that the three of them fell asleep snuggled together.
When Smolder was taken home, Gemstone said a quick farewell to her master and left for the day. Being only seventeen, she still stayed with her parents. In a year she’d have her own cave, growing her own hoard, and looking for a respectable mate. Until then, she enjoyed the time she spent with her family, especially her little brother. When she landed at the mouth of her parents’ cave, her little brother, Slicer, lay waiting. His eyes widened at the sight of her, and he quickly stood on all fours.
How she adored her little brother. He was happy, strong, agile, and fortunate. They were of the Steelspine clan. Their claws never dulled, never broke, and could cut through just about anything. But Slicer was so much more fortunate than that. He had the same dark grey scales as she did, the same fur that lined their collar bones, the same two silver horns that grew out from their crowns and towards their backs, and even the same shimmering silver spines that ran along their backs and tails. But he alone had a sickle at the end of his tail. It was his tail that gave their parents the thought to name him Slicer.
Like all whelps, they both had inherited their father’s ability, but Slicer was one of the few whelps in the kingdom to inherit their mother’s ability as well. Their mother was of the Sickletail clan, a group of dragons with a sharp blade near the tips of their tails. Her brother’s sickle grew out the side of his tail, slightly curved. However, his mother’s and father’s abilities had merged, resulting in Slicer’s sickle tail being just as sharp and lethal as his claws, if not more so. To dragons, this was a sign of good fortune, a blessing from Bahamut himself.
His fortune did not end there, for he had been given the clan’s birthright. Normally, the eldest of each clan would be allowed to compete for the mantle of Dragon Lord, but Gemstone had chosen her vocation already and as such, gave her birthright to her little brother. It was a favor that Slicer had no hope of repaying.
Like most whelps, being the Dragon Lord was his dream, and he had the power to make it come true. There was only one clan that could prove a threat to him, the Ironscale clan. Gemstone wasn’t too worried though. She was certain that her brother was more skilled than Garble, not to mention Slicer was one of the few dragons capable of piercing Garble’s hide. She bore no ill will towards her master’s family, but she wasn’t about to cheer against her own blood.
Gemstone watched as her brother crouched low, his tail wagging, and his body bobbing up and down. He wanted to play, normal for a drake his age. She got low, gave him a sad smile and said, “Not today, Slicer, I’m sorry.” She stroked the top of his head lovingly, her heart nearly breaking as his smile faded, replaced with a pout.
“Why not? Did something happen, are you sick?”
“No, no, I just have a lot on my mind.”
“That sounds like something happened,” Slicer pointed out.
“It’s a shaman problem, regarding shamans, it’s not meant for whelps.”
“Well, what about future Dragon Lords?”
Gemstone giggled. “It’s not meant for Dragon Lords either, current, former, or future.” Was that true? Should she go to the Torch with her worries? What would she say, that she didn’t like the type of gift Topaz gave Smolder? Torch would be more likely to yell at her for thinking it fine to meddle in another family’s affairs than it was for him to scold Topaz’s foolishness. After all, no one was being beaten or harmed, nothing was stolen, and it’s not like she led ponies to their lands.
A pony had not been seen since before Celestia ruled over the vile spec known as Equestria. She’d heard stories from elder dragons, including her late Great-Great-Grandfather, that Celestia once had a sister, before murdering her in cold blood. Typical behavior for a pony in their opinion. They would act nice, they would act sweet, they would act cute, but that’s all they would do: act. Pretend. Put on a façade before showing their true colors and driving a dagger into your heart. Why would Celestia be any different? The only issue Gemstone had with the story was that none of the older dragons could agree on the sister’s name. Some called the poor pony, if such a thing could exist, Luna, others Nightmare Moon, some Lulu. The second name was more fitting in her opinion.
But that was the past. In the present, they were safe. So safe that some dragons dared to settle in Equestria themselves, something that Gemstone thought to be nothing more than tempting fate. If a fool like that was slain in Equestria, for his hoard or for glory, Gemstone would not shed a tear for them.
“How about this, I tell you a story to tide you over, then tomorrow, we can play a game. Anything you want. Deal?”
Slicer nodded, and followed his sister deep into the cave. Gemstone began to tell her brother his favorite story, the creation of the dragon race. As she wove her tale, her brother’s eyes grew heavy and soon he fell asleep, his head resting on her lap. In that moment, all her worries seemed to fade, replaced by a feeling of security. For that she was thankful. She and her brother would never know the fear their forefathers felt in the darker days of their land, the terror of death that monsters like ponies could so easily bring just by stepping into a cave, nor would they know the pain of losing a loved one to the abhorrent spears that they wielded.
She couldn’t have known just how wrong she was.