Applejack and I sat back to back, her hooves and my claws glued to the ground by ice. A ring of the freezing, transparent crystals bound us together and squeezed my arms uncomfortably. I wriggled a bit, fruitlessly trying to find some relief.
“Quit movin’,” Applejack whispered, flicking her eyes toward the monster. “Or it’ll decide to finish us off.”
I turned toward the thing, my skull throbbing with intensity. My concussion had worsened when I collided with the wall, and I was lucky to not have fainted again. Applejack was clearly anxious, but she was doing her best to stay calm because of me. I could see ideas running through her mind. None of them seemed to be what she was looking for.
“At last…” the thing breathed. The sound startled us, almost making me slam backward into Applejack.
It stared at us for a few moments, seeming to blink once, before chuckling. Its laughter eventually subsided, and silence took its place in resonating throughout the chamber. “You wicked ponies,” the thing growled after several unbearable seconds, its voice much deeper than the pitch of any stallion’s. One scream from it would surely burst anyone’s eardrums. “I’ve tried a thousand times to rid of your kind. So resilient you are. It’s unfathomable.” It paused. “But ever so naively foolish. Your demise is inevitable … and I will be the one to trigger it.”
The classic villain rambling. It was uncertain how long it (he?) would go on though. Applejack glanced in my direction, her eyes telling me everything I needed to know. She needed time to come up with a plan, and I would have to be the one to create that time.
“So,” I said, my voice cracking. The monster – he must’ve been a spirit of some sort – scowled at me. I tried again. “Who are you?”
He peered at me questioningly. “Of course, you don’t know.” He shook his head. “She’s been concealing my rightful power from the world all this time. Goodness, she’s been keeping secrets from her own subjects. Coward, she is, Celestia. I am Souse, king of the Equestrian seas. I was once the most powerful in the land, that is, before Bale the Brave cast a pathetic banishing spell on me. The depths of this river have been my prison for nearly a century. It’s only time I return to reinitiate my visions.”
“What visions?” I asked, my tone bolder. “I’ve seen a lot of creatures like you try and fail to claim Equestria, so you better have something decent planned.”
He scowled but continued with his monologue. “Ah, the days of long ago. I once had a cult of spirits – similar in appearance to me. We called ourselves ‘The Reservoir’. We had an amazing plan, something truly extraordinary. But old, troublesome Celestia had other ideas. Alas, we had no choice but to concoct a new plan. One that didn’t incorporate her wishes, simply because she was so obstinate…”
I snuck a look at Applejack. She rolled her eyes, and I resisted the urge to laugh. This would’ve been a good opportunity to escape. Things likely wouldn’t stay in our favor for long. If only that plan of hers would manifest itself…
“…We were going to wipe out all the terrestrial creatures in Equestria – “The Great Flood” was what we would have called it. The ocean truly deserved to rule the world. Regrettably, there was a spy among us, a spirit by the name of Gill. We had all been ponies before adopting our current form – it was an experience I’ve wiped almost entirely from my mind – but, alas, it seemed Gill never forewent his true nature. He was always a traitor in the making, albeit I never expected him to go as far as giving the Royal Guard a detailed report of our battle plans. …”
I scratched my head. An entire backstory was rather strange…
“But the point is, Gill’s betrayal led to both our defeat and our demise. My kin were destroyed, but unsurprisingly, I escaped … well, with a disappointing temporary banishment by that despicable Bale the Brave, in this very cave. But the details are terribly boring, and we don’t want you to get too comfortable now. Would we?” He sneered.
A few beads of sweat began to trickle down my forehead as Applejack shook her head just enough for me to notice. She needed more time, and time was beginning to tip out of our favor.
“Nope. Not at all,” I chuckled, giving him an uneasy grin.
The spirit smiled at nothing in particular, which made me all the more nervous. “Anyway,” he continued, “I’ve had plenty to do down here in the years that the spell’s effect began dwindling – roughly, what, three-hundred or so years ago? I’ve extended my magic out into your world to – how should I put this? … To get a sense of what’s happened over the years and to do a little … interacting here and there in undetectable ways – you know, with the population and just maybe with Celestia herself. No one suspected a thing.”
What would Twilight do in this situation?
It was a hard question to answer, one I had been desperately trying to for the past few minutes. I needed a way to outsmart him, something I wasn’t sure I was capable of.
I nodded slowly. “Go on,” I prompted, all I could think of for the time being.
“But this past year has been the liveliest, and the most inspiring, of course. I could sense the power to break free growing within me day by day, by the hour even. With that power came more of my magical abilities. I … may or may not have followed a few ponies around the cave. I might have lingered in little corners or perhaps just above their heads, just enough for them to notice but never see. And when they did notice, I’d reel in my magic and disappear, and it would be as if nothing happened. A daydream, or maybe some sort of delusion, but never something. They, too, never suspected a thing.
“And then, I enchanted the river, just as a minor form of revenge on those guards’ descendants.”
Applejack’s eyes widened and narrowed within the span of half a second. I could see the rage burning inside her eyes and could nearly feel it melt the ice that burdened us. But I couldn’t let the thing see it. It would feed off of it, use it as a source of fuel for motivation to do whatever horrible deed it would inflict upon us … eventually. But more pressing was the fact that it would provoke it to act as quickly as possible. That was something I couldn’t allow. It was the one thing we had to avoid. I numbered the seconds we had left to do something, anything, to get out of our situation. I guessed somewhere around 180, and the number was only growing smaller.
I turned and thrust my wing sideways to shield AJ’s face. I whacked it lightly and leaned backward to make it seem as if I had somehow slipped within the tight hold of the ice around us. A good pinch ensured that she got the message. She scowled, but her anger was now directed at me rather than the spirit.
165 … 164 … 163.
I recalled something the thing had said about following ponies around the cave. Something about noticing without seeing. The strange shadows slithered back into my mind, foggy, clouded thoughts that were smothered in an additional layer of haze. Suddenly, an explanation for the inexplicable came to light.
“It was you…” My voice was barely a whisper.
“Yes, it was me, little dragon fool. There was something unusual about you and your pony friend. Something … inexplicable, wouldn’t you say?”
His glittering diamond teeth made my head ring with pain. The little advantage we had was slipping like sand between my claws.
“I knew you were special, so I had to be vigilant. After all, I couldn’t let two of Equestria’s protectors get away if you discovered my secret.”
How did he know?
“I kept a very close eye on you and made things as difficult as possible. I was so close to freedom, with the spell withering away to nothingness and only hours to go before it completely faded. All I had to do was lure you here to save us all some trouble. I tinkered with your mind, controlling your thoughts, feelings, and your every move. The river is irresistibly beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Varmint,” Applejack spat, the word filled with the venom of an army of cobras.
“No…” I couldn’t breathe.
“Yes…” He hissed. “Yes. Yes! Enough about myself. The time has come, pony and dragon. I’ve endured your game of aversion long enough. How dare you consider me that incompetent? The time has come for the reign of a new king! The time has come for The Great Flood of the Celestial Sea! The time has come for the end of the pony race! Now and forever, the ocean will rule the world, and sadly for you, the first to go stand in this very chamber.”
3 … 2 … 1.
The steam that filled the room was unbearably thick, dense, and hot. I coughed as it spread from the river toward where we sat, chained and helpless.
“Fire, Spike. Quick.” Applejack ordered, not taking her eyes off the thick billowing clouds.
I mustered the strength and resolve left within me and summoned my flames from their chambers. Gold and ruby flashed across white and blue. The ice melted quickly, becoming a cold pool of water in my lap. Applejack leapt to her hooves, instantly tearing open her saddlebags. The spirit tormented us by pushing the steam dangerously close before slowing the movement of the clouds and drawing them back, only to start the process again, the gap between us and the fog becoming smaller each time.
She withdrew an arrow, a long piece of silver wood with miniscule runes etched over the entire surface. The head was sharpened cleanly and almost glinted against the white and blue around us.
“I’ve only got 5,” Applejack said, eyes darting up toward the spirit. I nodded, still trying to process the situation.
A bow quickly complimented the arrow. Laying on her stomach, Applejack fitted the arrow on the bow and slowly pulled the shaft backward. She took a deep breath, something resembling doubt submerged beneath the oceans of white reflected in her eyes.
She fired.
A pony, or dragon in my case, can learn many things when dealing with evil lunatics, especially when you’re confronting them once every month or so.
A. You figure out what works very quickly. Like Applejack’s arrows … they were virtually useless. The magnificently sharp tips did nothing but shatter against the cave walls after they soared through the spirit’s hollow form. Nevertheless, she, as stubborn as that mare is, continued to use them. The first was on target but caused no harm, as I described. The second missed completely. I watched a third and fourth go by, piercing air and nothing more. She held the fifth and final arrow in hoof, twirling it around and around as if it were one of those dragonfly toys. She stared through the steam, watching and waiting as if it would make the decision for her.
B. You learn never to stand in one place for too long – as Applejack was doing. Lucky for her, she wasn’t the spirit’s target. My wings ached, the pain from the previous day’s travels flooding back to them in a tidal wave. My throat burned from constantly using my fire breath. Steam cascaded over me, stinging my eyes and burning my lungs. Somehow, it wasn’t as hot as I anticipated. Rather, it was a chilling fog – if that makes sense – but one that burned, nonetheless. Shards of ice penetrated the mist every now and then, only narrowly missing my wings or tail, yet I could hear them grating on my scales. It was a battle between fire and ice … well, that and the occasional arrow.
We were losing terribly, and defeat seemed to be imminent. I didn’t know how long it would be before I’d collapse. I gagged and gasped for breath every second I could, my eyes watering, distorting my vision. Applejack, still holding the lone arrow, disappeared beneath the white clouds. I swooped to the ground, hoping the thing wouldn’t be able to see me there either.
C. You learn to never give up. There was so much pitted against us at the moment, but even though I had retreated, I wasn’t planning on sitting and waiting for what would be inevitable doom. I could see Applejack was thinking the same thing. She had positioned the arrow on the bow, breathing deeply and squinting through the fog.
“You’re gonna do it?” I panted, flying up to her side.
Applejack sighed. Sweat poured down her face, plastering her mane to her forehead. She jerked her head to the left to toss her hat to the ground, useless now in the oppressive atmosphere.
“This one’s enchanted,” she said, eyeing it cautiously, “from a long time ago. Got only a few of these back on the farm – maybe six or so. I take one when I can. Just in case.” A thunderous boom rolled through the cave. “I think now qualifies for ‘in case’.”
“Yeah,” I nodded, now joining her in squinting. The steam only seemed to grow denser. I wheezed, and Applejack shot me a worried look. She drew the arrow backward in resolution.
“Wait,” I rasped.
“What?” The arrow paused. She moved it away from the bow, releasing the tension with a ‘twang’.
“What happens if it hits it and whatever spell’s on it works?”
Applejack shook her head slowly. “Guess we’ll find out.”
“You mean you don’t know?”
“‘Course not. What do you think I am, a prophesier?”
I ignored her sarcasm. “But what if it backfires? We’ll be toast. We’re already almost out of options. If things get worse-”
“Almost out of options doesn’t mean we are, Spike. It’s worth a shot. We don’t have time nor a choice.”
I held my breath as she repositioned the arrow. She again laid on her stomach, eyeing the target with precision.
“Yeah, you’re right…” I said. “Go ahead.”
For a moment, she pondered over my change of thought. Nonetheless, she nodded without a word to acknowledge my command. With a final deep breath and a whisper of prayer, she set it free.
The crash of thunder at that exact moment nearly burst my eardrums and sent me keeling teary-eyed on the floor. I heard Applejack cry out in pain, a desperate plea for mercy. My concussion made itself known again very quickly, sending a reverberating pulsation throughout my skull along with a brilliant flash of white. The monster cackled sinisterly, sending a layer of ice slithering toward us on the ground.
Applejack’s bow had snapped.
I don’t know what caused it to break. The most plausible explanation was the thunderclap. Yet, it could have been anything: Wear and tear on the bow finally doing its worst, a magic spell the spirit had cast, torquing the string out of alignment… Maybe even a combination of these things.
Through my blurry vision, I saw the arrow shoot upward, ricochet off a stalactite, and (miraculously, still in one piece) slam into my backpack. The combined force of the arrow’s hit and the thunderclap sent the bag skidding across the ice. I watched it slide, smoothly and gracefully, spinning toward me with the speed of a bullet traveling the distance of a light year. I was still laying down, tears now flowing down my face, as the momentum carrying the bag died a mere few hoofsteps away from me. A familiar glowing orb rolled out of it, radiant and blue and pulsating brighter than anything in the cave. I overcame the initial blindness it subjected my eyes to and gaped in disbelief.
I stared at it, its bright colors beckoning me in an ineffable wave of warmth. The radiating energy engulfed me, rejuvenating me with unimaginable strength and vigor. I extended a grasping hand, an overwhelming wave of déjà vu flooding my mind. I clutched it tightly, instinctively, closing my eyes and pouring every ounce of my heart and soul into that gleaming ball.
I rose to my feat, newfound courage present within me. I held the ball aloft, and the clouds scampered away in fear. Only the frigid air stood between me and the monster. He narrowed his eyes menacingly, but I held my ground and continued to stare him down.
“You–” he snarled.
“SILENCE!!” My voice reverberated commandingly throughout the room, cutting him off without a second thought.
The spirit narrowed his eyes, drawing backward with a menacing hiss. His glare was filled with fire, a stark contrast to the white of the fog that filled the room and the bright blue of the ice that lined the floor and walls. His magic prepared yet another wave of the suffocating white, but he froze in horror before it could be unleashed.
“The Anchor….” His words were almost inaudible.
I brought the ball he was referring to to my chest and clutched it with both claws. A dumbfounded Applejack watched as the orb pulsated faster within my grasp. A smirk manifested upon my face as the spirit could only quiver in trepidation.
“I can’t… How did you…?! This, this can’t be…”
My eyes sparkled in triumph. “Yes, it can. And yes, it must.”
The thousand thoughts that flew through my mind dissipated in the seconds that the thing’s form and magic contorted violently, expressions and sparks of energy changing and flashing like a firework show – one whose rockets would ultimately fire toward us. Calmness and resolve replaced fear and doubt as my thoughts oriented toward one goal.
But in the seconds before that calm, I’d thought about how something as simple as a dare could result in a perilous situation where the fate of Equestria yet again hung in the balance. A situation where lives were at risk. A situation where time favored the enemy. A situation where water and ice intended to kill. A dare created a battle between good and evil – a battle in which only one side could prevail. Time and again we had prevailed, but the power to succeed now rested solely in my claws….
I’d received a burst of intuition in the moments when the mysterious ball came rolling to my side – a flash of information without reasoning that I’d accepted with wholehearted gratitude. ‘The Anchor’ – as it was called – was something Bale the Brave had crafted to banish the spirit. Over a long, brutal millennium it had found its way to this cave … and to me. The initial magic was still present within it – just enough to finish the job permanently, with the addition of something special…
Yet I’d thought about whether this power had been bestowed upon me deliberately or coincidentally. Why I had stopped out of curiosity to retrieve the ball was a question I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t perceive why it just so happened that something with so much power had somehow fallen in my hands. Why not in the strong hooves of Applejack? Why not in the shrewd hooves of Twilight? Why not in the valiant hooves of Rainbow Dash, even? Frankly, why in my awkward, inept, inexperienced hands? Why had the opportunity come to me and not to someone else?
Yet perhaps … perhaps it had caught my eye for a purpose. Perhaps it wasn’t some mistake or stroke of unfortunate luck. The brilliantly gleaming orb was calling me, and I felt destined to answer it, despite my doubts about why it had chosen me. After all, I knew of its purpose and how to use it the moment my eyes detected it ever so fatefully and faithfully rolling out of my bag. All that mattered was that it was in the right time and place for its service. Deep down, I knew I needed to execute that service.
I’d thought about duty and responsibility. Throughout nearly the entire trip, I’d doubted and questioned myself: I’d wondered why I had volunteered to accompany Applejack on such a frivolous expedition. I’d asked myself time and again to think like someone else – to be someone else. Problems had come my way, and I’d placed the blame on myself when I made the wrong decisions. I’d tried and failed in so many ways, and worst of all, I saw my mission to protect Applejack crumble before my eyes.
I knew I wasn’t a failure.
I knew I wasn’t a disgrace.
An underachiever.
A loser.
A disappointment.
A nobody…
I wasn’t any of those things. No matter how often one of these titles would peek through the door to my mind when defeat and disaster swept me off my feet, I knew I wasn’t a failure. Twilight knew that. My friends knew that. Even Equestria knew. For the first time, I understood that my lack of success wasn’t the enemy, it was my tendency to regard myself negatively when it appeared that I was the problem.
For long enough, I’d wondered whether I was enough … whether I was worthy. I’d pondered over whether I deserved the title of ‘The Brave and Glorious’, whether I deserved to be known as one of Equestria’s saviors. … Whether I deserved to have the friends that I do.
I’d watched as the spirit shook and twisted uncontrollably, an implosion or explosion gradually seeming more and more inevitable. His only emotions were raw anger, and most significantly, fear. I’d seen that fear countless times, and it was a fear that I had helped my friends incite within countless individuals. I was reminded of the remarkable things I’d done in my time.
I thought back to when I used the crystal heart against King Sombra. Twilight believed in me, and that faith and trust instilled the drive within me that I needed to fulfill my duty. I remembered the terror that had inflicted me as I scaled down the formidable crystals surrounding the castle. I remembered the horrifying and helpless feeling of spiraling through the air, the crystal of love and light just out of my arms’ reach. Despite the odds pitted against me, I came through (with Princess Cadance’s help of course) and delivered the heart to the desperate crystal ponies below in the nick of time. Twilight believed in me, and I didn’t let her down.
Sometimes luck wouldn’t be on my side or I’d make the wrong decision, but my friends would always be there to support me. I realized that bad things happened, but I’d never truly be the best version of Spike if I didn’t forgive myself and try to rectify my mistakes.
I remembered why I had come along with Applejack in the first place. We promised to protect each other, and I intended to stick to that promise. She played her part by saving me from an avalanche and luring me away from the river. Now I’d return the favor by heeding to my duty and responsibility – orchestrating the fall of “The Reservoir” (as the thing had called it), and for good this time. Duty and fate. They go hoof in hoof, you know.
So, just as the ball had chosen me … just as Twilight had chosen me, it was finally time for me to choose myself…
Back in the present, I breathed deeply as the spirit gained control of himself. Although he no longer convulsed, he hissed madly, seeming ready to strike at Applejack and I at a moment’s notice. He conjured a ball of energy above his head, growing rapidly in power and intensity. I held the ball aloft in front of me, gritting my teeth as a foreign power began to consume it as well.
“STOP!” He boomed. Wrath filled his voice, but his eyes told a different tale.
I went on, unperturbed.
“Wretched fool.” I began, the words feeling as if they were coming from both myself and someone else. The feeling was soothing though, almost natural.
“In the haven of Equestria your schemes have no place.”
“Wickedness and evil will never extinguish the pony race.”
“The Anchor has returned to a fellow lionheart, and now punishment you will reap.”
“I cast you back where you belong, fallen spirit … into the deep.”
A flash of lightening erupted from the sphere within my claws, aimed directly at the monstrosity. The spirit howled as the bolt struck and electrocuted him, sending him jerking and contracting once more. His screams, almost heart-rending, pierced through the air as his form withered and collapsed. The Anchor then carried out its duty, hauling him down into the river slowly, just as a ship would sink beneath the waves on its last journey. The descent took several, long, near-unbearable seconds, the spirit only growing weaker as time passed. In its final seconds, it gazed at me. It was a blank, lifeless stare, one that had been drained of all its hatred and ferocity.
I stared back. “Now and forever.” I said, softly, my words almost a whisper. “Now and forever you’ll be lost to the world. Your shadows will never haunt us.”
D. You learn to believe in miracles. Anything can happen in Equestria. The perfect opportunity will come, and if you’re patient, if you’re resilient … if you believe in yourself, good things might happen for you.
No reply came, only the sound of bubbling water as the spirit sank beneath Blue Moon River.
The water sparkled faintly, in an almost teasing, pleasant manner, before it too faded away.
A majestic silence reverberated throughout the cave.
All was well for the first time this night.