//------------------------------// // Chapter 18: Slayers // Story: Our Little Brother, Spike // by Hope Caster //------------------------------// The time had come once again for dragons to come together and deposit their eggs in the Nursery. Lava held within the mountain would warm their young, and eventually hatch them. The dragons would then gather to claim their little ones, relying on scent and markers to find them. Of course, parents weren’t the only excited dragons, when eggs hatched. There were a litany of relatives anxious to see the newest members of their clans, but none so excited as the older siblings. At only ten years old, Slicer Steelspine was already a proud dragon. He was of the Steelspine Clan after all, living weapons, as his father said. His claws were sharp, and his mind sharper. However, he was also one of the few dragons in the world to be in possession of not only two clan abilities, but what was known as a “combined” clan ability. His sister had explained that this meant he was blessed with good fortune. Maybe not everything he strived for would come to be, but if he worked hard enough, some if not most of his dreams would come to pass.  Other than being mighty and powerful, Steelspines were also the most caring and gentle of  dragons in the world. Like all dragons, they cherished family above all else, especially when a new drake was about to be born. Slicer scurried from his nest and over to his sleeping parents. They both waited in front of their hoard, curled around something much more precious; their third egg. He tried to climb over them to reach his little brother, but after falling seven times, he decided to change his approach. “Dad,” he said, nudging his father’s snout. Nothing. “Dad!” he repeated, louder this time. His father shifted maybe an inch before letting out a loud snore. Slicer’s face fell. There was one way to wake his father up. It would be effective, but it would get him in trouble. He looked towards the spot where his baby brother sat waiting, safe in his egg. ‘Worth it,’ he thought to himself, knowing it was the last chance to talk with his sibling before the egg was taken to the Nursery. Slicer leaned back and slammed his palms against his father’s snout. The older dragon let out a ‘hmm’ before blowing a very small cloud of smoke at his son through the corner of his mouth. “What did I tell you, Slicer?” Kalamet asked, yawning. He stretched his body, before grabbing his son by his tail, and lifting him up. “‘Don’t slam your snout to wake you up,’” Slicer recited. “But I had a good reason this time!” His father let out another yawn. “And that reason is?” “I wanna say bye to Onyx.” Damn his son for having the best reason to wake him up. Kalamet let out another yawn as he placed Slicer back down on the ground. “Pala, your son is up,” Kalamet told his mate. “Before sunrise, he’s your son,” Pala Steelspine murmured. “Gemstone, your brother is up.” There was a groan from the back of the cave. Gemstone had a job that required her to get up early, yet her brother managed to wake up before her everyday. She still didn’t know why she had to play babysitter, it wasn’t she who’d made the kid. The elder sibling rubbed the lingering sleep from her eyes, and carefully stumbled past Slicer. With a beat of her wings, she flew over her parents, picked up a silver egg with dark grey stripes, and handed it over to an eager Slicer. “Careful now,” Gemstone muttered as her brother hugged his unborn sibling close to his chest and began whispering to the egg. He’d been like this for weeks. Every night, Slicer prayed to Bahamut, asking the deity pull a piece of metal from their bag to give him a brother, and asking him to bless him as he’d been blessed. Gemstone’s prayers were similar; however, since she already knew what it was like to have a little brother, she was praying, albeit silently to avoid bickering, for a little sister. Someone whom she could teach to read and write, and produce medicine alongside her. It was a fantasy she held ever since seeing Smolder a year ago. “You’re going to be one of the coolest dragons in the world,” Slicer said to the egg. “I can even teach you how to use your tail, that’s like the coolest part about being a Steelspine like me!” He wagged his tail, showing off the blade at the end of it.  Thus Slicer continued wishing the egg well for almost an hour, until a spear zipped past his head, sliced his cheek, and embedded itself into his father’s shoulder, eliciting a piercing cry. In shock, Slicer slowly turned his head towards the entrance of the cave and saw the first ponies to enter the Dragon Lands in over a thousand years. It was very rare that a child was allowed in the nursery for longer than a moment, especially during the start of hatching season, but being the son of a wet-nurse gave Spike a certain privilege, especially when his visit to his grandfather had left him frightened. Amber was still bitter at Furnace, so for her, it was better that she kept an eye on her son herself, than let the old wyrm tell Spike any more stories. Today, the Nursery was a center of activity, with countless new mothers gently, if reluctantly, depositing their eggs in small pits, while their mates sat by and watched from afar. By their second egg, they would be less frightened at the prospect, more eager. After all, the sooner an egg was deposited, the sooner they would hatch, and the sooner they could be brought home. For Spike, it was nothing but wonder. He crept to the edge of one pit to look at all the eggs, each an array of different colors and patterns, only for a voice to ring out. “Heathspike, not so close,” chided his mother. Spike instantly backed away from the pit. Still wanting to see the eggs, though, he got on his toes and stretched his head as far as he could to get another glance. It was said that each egg contained a tiny hatchling, smaller than he was. “When are they gonna come out?” Spike asked. “Not for a little while, Spike. It could be months. We’re just here to help organize, and make sure the claiming process goes smoothly when that time comes.” “Can’t we help them out of their eggs now?” “No, Spike. They’re still growing in their shell,” Amber explained. “When dragons are first laid, they’re not quite dragons yet, they’re more like… yoke. Yellow slime.” “Slime?” Spike asked, perplexed at the concept. “That’s weird.” “It might seem like it, but the dragons grow from that. Now, it’s very important that we keep the eggs intact when they’re forming, or it’d be very, very bad for them.” “Oh, okay.” Spike looked around and saw an expectant mother nearby, whispering to her unhatched whelp words of love and encouragement. Did his mother do that? Would she have done that if he’d been laid by her? He couldn’t imagine no. “Was it like this when our eggs were put here?” “It was. It’s like this every year.” Sitting high upon a crag, casting a vast shadow and looking down at everyone, Spike saw the Dragon Lord. A glare was frozen on Torch’s face, seeming to intensify when their eyes met. Spike swallowed. “Does the Dragon Lord always glare at everyone?” Amber looked towards the cliffside where the Dragon Lord sat, watching over the Nursery, giving a look of displeasure to the dragons below. “I can’t name a time when he didn’t look mad,” Amber sighed. “Although I can’t blame him. That glare keeps away anyone who might even think about stealing or hurting an egg. And honestly, Torch’s bark is much worse than his bite. Between you and me, I hear that when he’s all alone, he speaks in a baby voice to the eggs, telling them how strong they’ll be once they’re grown.” Spike giggled. The Dragon Lord acting all cutesy was a funny concept, but it was something he’d have to see to believe. Torch was mean to his brother after all, so how nice could he really be? He stuck his tongue out at the Dragon Lord while he thought Torch wasn’t looking, before turning his attention back to the eggs, then to his mother. Little did Spike know that he’d just bought Garble another fifty push-ups tomorrow. “Mama, do you think you’ll lay another egg?” Amber paused her work and chuckled. She certainly was open to the prospect of having another child; not that she and Flare hadn’t given it the old college try, on those occasions when they pawned the children off on Topaz or Jasper. There was still time, in any case. At least another two-hundred years. “Any reason you want to know?” “I want to be a big brother,” Spike explained. “Really? Even if that meant having a little sister?” Spike paused. If his new sibling turned out to be a little sister, she’d like girly things, and that meant that if she read Smolder’s books… He dared not think what that would mean. “Could we keep her from reading Smolder’s books?” Amber began to think about it, not very seriously, but she did enjoy a fun hypothetical. “No. In fact, I would require that you read them to her.” Spike groaned to himself. “I guess it’s better than nothing. Maybe only a chapter a night, and then I could read Burnferno to her before Smolder can spoil it.” Spike was halfway through the book, but Smolder had chimed in regarding Burnferno and a future traveling companion of his. A beautiful young dragon named Meadow Lark, whom Burnferno had liberated from a gang of slavers. ‘He saved her!’ Smolder had said, excitedly, when she’d read Burnferno that had just draped his cape over her shoulders, assuring her everything was going to be alright. ‘That means that they have to end up together!’  Spike was adamant that this was never happening in a million years. Unfortunately for Spike, once he would finally get his claws on the final book in the series, he would find that Smolder was correct. Burnferno would retire from his death defying adventures, and start a family with none other than Meadow Lark. In addition, this narrative decision would be the cause of much cacophony across the author’s native Equestria. Some readers would roister in celebration; others riot in protest, as they believed that the titular character should have ended up with either the enchantress Mana, the warrior princess Whip, the sadistic Madam Noir, or all of them. Back in the present, the morning continued without much fuss. Amber calmed the occasional new mother who felt worried about leaving her baby alone, Spike was fawned over by older mothers depositing their second or third egg, and Lord Torch waited atop his crag, seemingly disinterested, letting out loud yawns every so often. Everything seemed perfect, until a sharp cry rang out. Many looked up towards the sky and saw a dragon speeding towards the Nursery. Panic nearly erupted as dragons scrambled to try and intercept the approaching dragon. However, Torch was quicker than anyone else present. His wings flared, and he launched himself from his spot, slamming into the oncoming dragon and forcing them to the ground. To his shock, it had been a dragoness, her limp body heaving as she lay on the ground. Torch felt dirty harming her, but if doing so saved even one egg, he’d gladly do it again. “What in Bahamut’s name do you think you’re doing!?” Torch barked. The dragoness seemed to not see him as she got up and attempted to descend into the Nursery, shrieking his name over and over. Torch knew something was wrong immediately. She was weeping, her eyes bloodshot, but more than that, she was trying to push past him, all while screaming his name in desperation. Her mate came not a minute later, carrying a squirming burlap sack, shrieks echoing from inside. Dragon Lord though he was, Torch readied himself for the dragon to attack, retaliation for throwing his mate to the ground; but nothing came. The dragon merely went to his mate, embraced her without saying a word, and pulled her back. However, as he did, the dragoness dropped something that drew eyes and elicited horrified gasps. Before them, on the ground, were the remains of an egg. Murmurs echoed through the Nursery as a hundred different theories began to brew. “What happened to that egg?” Torch demanded, bile threatening to rise the longer he looked. He couldn’t have done that, could he? No, the bereaved mother would have been furious, trying to rightfully kill him, not crying for his help. His stomach twisted as he noticed scratches and a puncture wound on the father’s scales. Torch’s gaze turned to the burlap sack. He prayed it wasn’t what he was thinking. “What’s in there?”  Pala spoke in a whisper, hovering over the remains of her egg. “Slayers.” Her voice was low, far too low to be heard. “Speak up.” “Slayers!” Pala shouted, breaking down into tears. That word alone seemed to silence all the Dragon Lands. Even Torch was left distraught, his suspicions now confirmed. Weeping now as she spoke, Pala continued her revelations. “Vile, evil, wretched slayers! They snuck into our cave and attacked us and-and,” She howled as she hovered over the egg’s remains, “they stabbed my precious little boy, and murdered my innocent little baby. My-my little egg.” She put her hands over her heart and let out a cry of anguish, before collapsing into her mate’s embrace, tears falling to the ground like a heavy rain. Many mothers fell silent while the Dragon Lord grilled the father for a clearer explanation. Some looked down towards the countless eggs that had just been left in the Nursery, others whispered furtively amongst themselves, debating whether it was safe to leave their eggs. Any fears that had previously been quelled were reignited tenfold. Fathers who had accompanied their mates to deposit their brood began discussing if they should stay behind and aid the Dragon Lord in guarding the Nursery. If dragon slayers had come to do harm to their young, more than just the Dragon Lord was needed to protect the nursery, lest another Grimhoof make their name known. Amber picked up her son. “Heathspike, it’s time we leave.” “But-” “Heathspike, we’re leaving.” Spike could not say anything else. His mother flew them back to the cave, holding him close to her chest. The moment they entered, Amber began calling for the rest of the family, only to be met with silence. “They’re still out,” Amber whispered to herself.  When Spike had left with his mother, Flare had agreed to watch over Garble and Smolder at a gathering. Smolder had been adorned in trinkets, and Garble had been given permission to show off his dagger and his now-polished shield, on the condition he merely showed them to dragons. Ember was also going to be present, likely so she could rant to Garble about how undignified it was for the future Dragon Lord to be dolled-up in gaudy ruby-studded trinkets, fawned over and adored by every dragon who saw her. Amber felt two tiny fists hit against her chest. Sighing, she placed Spike down on the ground. “Mama, what’s happening?” Spike asked. Amber let out a deeper sigh. “Do you remember the story Grandpa Furnace told you the other day?” At her son’s nod, she continued, “Ponies like them came and hurt a mother’s egg.” Spike felt a familiar unease spreading through his body, as knots began to form in his stomach. “Is that why the mama was sad? Couldn’t she take it to Grandma Topaz to fix it?” “Oh, Spike,” murmured Amber. “If she could, she would have. But something you need to understand is that eggs are fragile. If one gets broken, there’s no fixing it. That’s why mothers care for them so much, why we’re so worried about them… They contain little hatchlings like you. When an egg gets hurt, the hatchling dies.” It frightened her to see the look of terrified understanding cross Spike’s face.  “But why attack an egg, or a mama, or us? We didn’t do anything.” “We’ll talk about that some other time,” Amber said remorsefully. “For now, let's you and I wait for your father to come home.” Amber took a seat at the mouth of the cave, blocking Spike from view. “Spike, why don’t you practice reading to me? I’d love to know why you love that dragon book so much.” The request seemed to brighten Spike’s mood, and he quickly grabbed his book. He got to read eleven whole pages, stumbling over a few words, before Amber took over. News of the incident must have spread like wildfire, Amber realized, as not an hour later, Garble and Smolder entered the cave, but not only that, Ember and her mother were following close behind them. Spike seemed to forget about the dragon slayers upon seeing the princess. He only scowled at her and emitted a low, frankly adorable growl. “Blaze? What are you doing here, where’s Flare?” Amber asked, fear gripping her heart. Her mind flooded with worry, imagining the worst fates befalling her mate. Fortunately, Blaze quickly put her worries to rest. “Torch called on him, so he asked that I bring Smolder and Garble home for him.” Blaze took a deep breath. “I-I’m sorry to ask this, but could Ember and I please stay here? With everything that happened-” Her breath hitched. “I don’t want us to be alone tonight.” Blaze’s eyes followed her daughter, whom she’d kept blissfully unaware of the attack. Ember and Smolder still wore their jewelry, with Smolder more eager to show herself off. Ember looked bored, but her cheeks would tinge red for a moment or two at Smolder’s compliments, and she showed annoyance when Garble or Spike shrugged their shoulders at her. Amber knew her friend would give up anything to keep her daughter feeling this safe. “It’s no trouble.” If anything, Amber felt relieved by the request. The sun was starting its descent, and Amber was starting to grow anxious. “Everyone,” she announced to her three children, “Lady Blaze and Princess Ember are going to be staying with us for a little bit. I’m expecting that you all do your best to make our guests feel welcome.” She was looking at Spike in particular when she said that. “I guess,” Spike grumbled. He felt himself go into a defensive stance as Ember approached, his growl only increasing in volume, but he was quickly silenced by Garble lightly hitting the top of his head. Spike let out a whine. “I was just growling!” “Well, don’t,” Garble ordered him. “Smolder, growling isn’t bad, is it?” Spike asked his sister, thinking that she’d be the tiebreaker, as usual. Except there was a short silence as he awaited her answer. “Smolder?” Smolder was gawking at a disinterested Ember, her face beaming with excitement. “Do you want to read a story?” Smolder suddenly asked, grabbing Ember’s claw. This was the first time that a girl her age was in the cave, and Smolder was all set to have as much fun with her as she could. “Read?” Ember knew of books, but neither she or her mother could read them. As far as she knew, only shamans knew how to read. Did that mean Smolder was already preparing to be a shaman? “Yeah, we have four whole books! We should have Garble read to us, he does voices! Oh, he has a book that teaches him how to rhyme, and it’s really funny to listen to.” Smolder was aware that Garble found the poetry embarrassing, but so what? She personally thought he was good at it. However, there was something wrong with Ember’s expression. Instead of being impressed, she seemed shocked and horrified by the revelation. “You can read?” Ember snapped at Garble. “You can’t read! If you can read, that means you’re smart! I’m supposed to be the smart one!” Spike smirked upon hearing that. With all the pride a four-year old can muster, he sauntered up to Princess Ember. “Can you read?” Ember could hear the superiority in his voice. “Shut up!” she shouted, flushing a bright red. “That’s not a yes.” Spike said, before Garble bonked him on the head again. “It’s not!” “Enough. Garble, don’t hit your brother that hard,” Amber scolded, “and Spike, since you’re so smart, why don’t you teach Ember to read while she’s here?” “But she’s mean to Garble!” Spike whined. “And if she’s so smart, why can’t she figure it out?” “Because if you don’t help her, you’re grounded.”  Spike turned to Garble. “I dunno if I can teach her that well.” His lips trembled, and he gave his brother a sad look. Not a single heartstring of Garble’s was spared. “Fine, I’ll help,” Garble said, rolling his eyes. He felt Smolder grab his claw, and saw her giving him the sweetest look of all. He sighed to himself. “We can read the princess book.” The rest of the day, for the children at least, passed as if nothing of note had happened. Such clouds of worry and fear that hung over the land and their parents were immaterial to them. For Amber and Blaze, their children’s short attention span helped ease their worry. Ember in particular proved a source of amusement. After a small lesson in letters and the sounds they made, the four children had gathered around Garble, listening to him read fairy-tales. Ember had an interesting reaction to them. “That story was dumb!” she would say when Garble finished. “Read the next one, I want to see if it’s as bad as that!” Her demands, much to Smolder’s delight and Spike’s chagrin, continued along those lines, until Garble was forced to read the first chapter of The Princess Promenade. Blaze giggled at her daughter’s enthusiasm, and prodded her with questions. “You seem so eager to hear the next one, are they that good? Are you actually enjoying them?” “No! I’d never like these stories. It’s just-they’re stupid! It’s something you can’t not listen to, that’s how stupid they are!” Ember declared. She turned to Garble. “One more chapter.” Soon, night fell upon the Dragon Lands, and the books were put away, while Ember and Smolder removed their trinkets, returning them to their mothers. “Together, now everyone,” Amber inscructed, shepherding her whelps to the back of the cave. Garble curled around Spike and Smolder, who happily snuggled together. They were not the only ones, though. Blaze pushed her daughter towards the spot as well. “Why do I need to join them?” Ember asked. Here, Blaze let out a sigh. “Because it will help Amber and I to keep track of you.” She gave Ember a hard nudge towards the cuddle-puddle. Ember seemed to understand the request as an order and hesitantly approached. On Amber’s command, Spike and Smolder made room for her. Ember curled up and placed her head against Garble’s side while snuggling up against Spike’s small body. If nothing else, she discovered that brothers made excellent pillows, and even better heaters. She could understand why Smolder tolerated curling around her brother now. Content with her spot, she soon drifted off to sleep along with Spike, Smolder, and Garble. But for Blaze and Amber, sleep eluded them. Their eyes were locked tightly on the mouth of the cave. Shadows danced about in the moonlight, wracking their nerves as they wondered if a group of ponies would enter their cave, if one of their whelps would be targeted, or where the first spear or spell would be thrown. An hour passed, and there came a loud thump. The mothers tensed. Another thump, and a shadow began to enter the cave. Amber and Blaze took to opposite sides of the cave, fire beginning to fill their mouths. A third thump, and a dragon’s silhouette came into view. Two streams of fire were about to be unleashed, but Amber hesitated, and her eyes narrowed before widening. “Stop,” Amber told Blaze, edging closer to the entrance. It took a moment for Amber to fully recognize the dragon, but when she did, she nearly burst into tears. “Smog?” The red dragon waved. “Flare said he needed to take care of something and that he didn’t feel comfortable leaving you alone, so I came to make sure you’re all safe. If there’s still-” Arms wrapped around his neck as Amber thanked him over and over for coming. A few tears escaped the dragoness as relief washed over her, with Smog giving her a tap on the back in response. After today, Smog would be allowed to watch his niece and nephews any time he wanted. “I’m glad that you’re happy to see me, Amber. Lady Blaze,” said Smog, dipping his head towards Blaze. “Have you talked to them about it yet?” He used his head to gesture to the sleeping whelps. “No. Not me anyway. Spike was there, though, and Furnace told him the stories about Flash Magnus, Grimhoof, and the rest of those creatures. I don’t want him having nightmares again,” Amber sniffed, whipping away a few tears. “It’s going to terrify my daughter, or worse,” said Blaze, “I don’t need her trying to prove she isn’t afraid or how strong she is by trying to find one to fight.” Smog nodded in understanding. This wasn’t going to be an easy thing to talk about with any of them. “Flare wanted me to talk to Garble. He’s not sure how long he’ll be away, so he thinks it’s better to do it sooner rather than later.” He quickly silenced himself upon hearing the sound of shocked, but excited gasps, followed by the patter of tiny claws and feet. “Uncle Smog!” the Ironscale siblings shouted in jubilation. Smog smiled as three pairs of arms hugged his claw, followed by some nipping and nuzzles. “It’s good to see you all again,” Smog greeted them, “Princess Ember,” he added, bowing his head to the little whelp who stayed close to her mother. She murmured a greeting and bowed back. “Why’re you here?” Smolder asked. “I thought mama said you weren’t allowed in the cave. Oh, did you see my scars?” Spike said, holding out his arms for his uncle to see. “They make you look sharp,” Smog said glibly, earning a grin from his nephew. “As for why I’m here, your father asked if I could stay with you all until he returns from his trip. Your mother and I talked it out so now I’m allowed back in the cave. Right, Amber?” “That we did,” Amber said with a nod. “I’ll be right outside. Garble, why don’t you join me?” Smog said, motioning for the smaller red dragon in the cave to follow. He gave his sister-in-law a smile. “You ladies get some sleep, I’ll wake one of you in a few hours.” Spike, curious as to why Garble was being led out, attempted to follow, only for his mother to pick him up and place him at the back with Smolder. “Stay there, both of you. Garble will be done soon.” He let out high pitched whine for a minute or two, until he saw how futile it was, after which he sat down with a huff. This didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to try to listen. He made himself comfortable, like he would if he was getting ready for bed. “You and I need to have a talk, Ember,” Spike heard Blaze say, cutting across his hearing. Spike turned his head and shifted his body until his tiny ear faced the mouth of the cave. He didn’t need to listen to Ember and her mother, who’d probably be talking about girl things. He tried to tune out every other sound around him, until finally, he could hear his uncle clear as day. Smog asked the question once the both of them were sitting at the edge of the cliff. “Garble, do you know what happened today?” His nephew looked up at him, claws digging into the cliff edge. “Something happened?” said Garble. “Is that why the gathering ended early and why the Dragon Lord needed Dad?” “Unfortunately. There were slayers that came and attacked a family. An egg was destroyed and a whelp was injured.” He watched as Garble's eyes widened and his body shivered. The whelp knew of dragon slayers, he’d heard the story of Magnus countless times, but surely he’d never thought that slayers would ever rear their heads again. Barely anyone did, not after so long since the last attack. “Are there still slayers?” Garble asked. “No, they’re all captured, or-” Smog slid a finger across his throat. “Knowing they were here can worry some dragons, however, especially parents. That’s why your father asked me to visit, to make sure everyone is safe. If you ask me, nothing else is going to happen,” Smog said with a weak chuckle. “But since something did happen, your father wanted me to tell you what needs to be done, if anything were to happen again.” “Shouldn’t Smolder and Spike be here too?” “They’re a bit too young for this talk, Garble, but your father and I feel you’re old enough to handle it. Understand?” He received a nod. “Good. Now, if a slayer ever finds their way into the cave, you need to protect your siblings.” Smog looked over to his left and saw Lady Blaze giving Ember a talk. The little princess seemed to shrink as her mother talked, but she too nodded at a question. “And considering the current situation, well, we’ve also got the princess to think about. We can’t put her in danger, can we?” “Yeah, that makes sense. Are you going to tell me how to fight a slayer?” “No, because you don’t fight slayers,” Smog frowned. “Fighting is good, but only when it’s warranted. Defending yourself is admirable, but this isn’t just about you, Garbuncle. You need to think of them.” He gestured towards the back of the cave where Garble’s siblings and Ember still lay. “In case of emergency, you take them and run. Leave the fighting to the adults.” “Why not fight with you?” “Because a slayer might be able to bypass us, or worse, kill us,” Smog said quietly. “If that happens, it would be safer if all of you were as far away from here as possible. I know how it is. You’re constantly told to stand up for yourself, that running is cowardly, but I’m not asking you to be a coward, I’m asking you to keep them safe. Can you do that?” Garble looked back and saw his two siblings and Ember gathering around each other. “Yeah, I can.” This was delivered with a determined nod. “Good. Now off you go,” Smog said, pushing Garble back towards the cave entrance. “First step to making sure your siblings are safe. is making sure you’re close by.”  Garble took one last look at Smog, before making his way to the back of the cave, but not before picking up his knife and shield. If his one job was to keep them safe, then he’d do just that. Upon re-entering, laying down his tools behind him, he slightly curled around Spike, leaving enough room for both Smolder and Ember to nestle into him, though Ember was now a bit more reluctant to do so. “Garble, we’re gonna be okay, right?” Spike whispered, before letting out a soft yawn.  “We’ll be fine,” Garble assured him. He wondered if he’d been able to hear what their uncle told him, if he could sense the fog of worry pervading the land, or if he’d heard about the slayers in the nursery. Regardless, he’d try to keep Spike calm for now, Smolder too. It was the least a big brother could do. Smolder wrapped her arms around Spike, holding him close to her chest like any dragon would do for a favored piece of treasure. Spike in turn nestled close into her feeling particularly warm and safe. The two whelps soon fell into a deep sleep, leaving only Garble and Ember awake. Ember began to shift, turning on her side so that her back and Spike’s faced each other, while she and Garble were face to face. “Do you know what happened today?” Garble could see that something was different in her. Her usual bravado and determination, the fire in her eyes had dimmed a little. “Yeah,” he said in an almost whisper. “Do you?” “Mom told me. If anything happens I need to listen to you.” Just then her face hardened. Because if there was anything that brought defiance out in Ember, it was being told to listen to someone that wasn’t her parents. “Don’t think you can just do whatever you want. I still get to suggest things and you have to at least consider them! It’s like a practice run for when I become Dragon Lord.” “How so?” “Obviously a paladin needs to protect and listen to the Dragon Lord!” Her body began to tense even as the fire in her began to falter. “You can keep us safe, right?” It took Ember only a moment to realize what she said, and she quickly clarified her expectations. “Not that I need protecting, but you need to watch your brother and sister. If you can’t protect them, you won’t make a very good paladin when we’re older.” “We’ll be fine,” Garble assured her, not a little bit of his real worry showing in his voice. “Good,” Ember said, turning back around. “I don’t want to have to find someone to replace you.” Satisfied that Garble was willing to do his job as her paladin, and not at all because he’d eased her fears about any slayers, Ember fell fast asleep. Garble closed his eyes, only to be awoken by a soft, puppy-like whimper. Hours must have passed, his uncle lay sleeping near the mouth of the cave, while his mother sat wide awake. It was too dark to see who exactly was whimpering, but it had to be Spike.  His little brother had nightmares every night when they were younger. When Spike could talk, he described a ghost made of glass staring down at him before reaching out a shadow claw, likely to throttle his throat. Garble could only assume that he was dreaming of slayers tonight, chasing him like he was some animal in the woods. Fortunately, there was a simple way to calm him down. Garble felt a shifting form, reached forward, and crudely wrapped his arm around the whelp, blindly pulling them closer to him. Just like that, Ember fell silent and slept soundly the rest of the night.