The evening sky was awash with hues of multicoloured light—great, arching ribbons danced in the stratosphere. To most creatures, it almost seemed like just another adverse weather event. Certainly, something unusual, but nothing worth more than a passing comment to those who lived outside the land once known as Equestria. Though to others, it confirmed that strange times were ahead.
Rumours abounded of odd travellers making their way on roads, strange races reappearing as if from the very pages of history and old, long-forgotten things in the world stirring. Perhaps these rays that crossed the sky were the herald of something new the world’s inhabitants wondered? But, alas, they would be wrong, for one who also looked to the sky recognised it as something old.
Something lost but now found, and with it, the fires of hope were rekindled.
This being’s movements shook the very land around him as he slunk out of his mountain dwelling. Creatures scurried in a panic, trees shook, and rocks hopped along the ground. But it was not the earth below that interested the curious behemoth. Instead, his great head was turned upward and to the light that now encompassed the heavens.
As he took it in, he was filled with warmth, like the hug of an old friend. He closed his eyes and let it linger in his chest. Memories flooded his mind, of times far away and long ago, but as fresh as if they had only happened yesterday. Upon his mouth, a toothy smile appeared, and when his eyes opened, they gleamed a brilliant green.
“It is time,” spoke Spike the dragon, his voice rumbled like thunder. His purple scales shined in the dim light. “The cycle begins anew.” He let his gaze linger upon the sky, knowing out there, in some distant place, a group of friends had begun an incredible journey together.
He sat there in content silence, knowing that no matter what happened next, the world had changed forever. However, his quiet contemplation was interrupted by a strange aura that he sensed nearby.
His smile did not slip; instead, it widened somewhat.
“You can come out now,” he said with mirth. “I know you are there, Discord.”
True to form, perched on a nearby tree branch, popped in the Lord of Chaos, a strange brooding look dancing upon his misshapen features. He was barely the size of one of Spikes claws. Which the old dragon still found odd.
So often had Discord towered over him in his youth. To see him otherwise was something Spike struggled to get over. Still, his more diminutive stature did little to diminish the tremendous and unnatural power he radiated from his mere presence.
“How did you know?”
“I am not as ignorant in the ways of magic as you suppose, my dear friend.” Spike relaxed back against the side of the mountain to take some weight off his legs, which shook in response.
“Ruined the surprise,” Discord said, several streamers and balloons that surrounded him deflated sadly. Spike rolled his eyes.
“I had expected you, to be honest.” To that, Discord tilted his head in confusion.
“Really? All that sleeping turn you into a prophet?” Spike snorted out a great plume of smoke.
“Hmmph, it is good to see you still have your humour about you. No, Discord, I am no prophet, just a discerning individual.” He let forth another hearty grunt. “Besides, for a being who defines himself by his chaotic nature, you are entirely predictable. Let’s just say current events have prompted it.” Discord seemed to frown even more at that; he twiddled his lion claw idyll, clearly agitated.
“So, you know?” He waved his other claw toward the sky, gesturing at the glowing lines of light.
“Yes, I have felt it,” Spike declared with a solemn nod. “A great awakening. Magic has finally returned to Equestria.”
“Not Equestria, just the leftovers,” Discord snorted dismissively, crumpling up a map of Equestria he had produced and tossing it away dramatically. Spike shook his head in disagreement.
“What was once lost can be rebuilt, and stronger too.”
“Whatever,” Discord retorted, his mouth twitched angrily. The chaos lord was in an odd form. Spike had rarely seen him so irritable. “So, who’s behind this? Some scheme conjured up by our dear leader, Twilight Sparkle. She oh-so did love her little plans.” The sarcasm in his tone was particularly venomous. Spike shrugged.
“I cannot say Discord. You knew Twilight as well as I. For all her abilities, she could not divine everything. What is at work here is greater than her. At least that is what I believe.” Discord waved dismissively at Spike with his lion’s paw.
“Oh pleassssse, don’t give me that,” he said. “I dealt with Celestia for centuries. I know a scheme when it’s playing out.” He turned his head again to the horizon, in the direction Spike supposed must be the source of his anxiety. “It’s too easy. Far too easy.” Spike eyed the spirit carefully.
“You’ve been watching them so?” Discord’s head turned a full one hundred and eighty degrees back toward Spike, like an owl. He was silent for a moment as if wondering whether he should speak at all though eventually, the chaos lord let forth a mumbled answer.
“Well…yes.”
Spike made a sound that resembled a disapproving ‘tsk’ with his tongue. When he spoke next, his tone was full of disapproval. “I hope you haven’t been interfering, Discord. Remember your promise.”
Discord’s agitated expression gave forth to a much more evident emotion—fury. The draconequus eyes glowed a ferocious red. His scowl deepened further.
“I remember,” Discord growled. “I will always remember. So don’t insult me.”
“I apologise,” Spike sighed. “I hadn’t meant to offend you.” This seemed to mollify Discord somewhat, his anger passed swiftly, and he returned to his previous grumpy disposition. Spike left forth an irritated sigh. He was genuinely sorry; he had not meant to go there.
He blamed the hazy fog that still partially lay on his recently awakened mind. Of course, Discord had not gone back on his word. Not that he was an entirely trustworthy individual, he often did as he pleased, when he pleased, and resisted any limitation on his behaviour as a cat would to a particularly irritable collar. But the last promise from his first friend was very much different.
There were some rules that he would never break.
An awkward silence seemed to fall over the two before Discord decided to continue. “So, it all begins again. Originality on this little rock we call home has clearly been left for want in my absence. Whoopdiedoo!”
“Are they good?” Spike queried.
“It’s not the same,” Discord huffed contemptuously. Spike shook his head.
“No,” Spike said. “It doesn’t have to be. All friendship is unique.”
“They didn’t go through what the girls did. They don’t deserve it.”
“Harmony has chosen—”
“Harmony has been wrong before,” Discord interrupted. “They don’t deserve to stand where they stood. Where she—”
“Discord, my old friend,” Spike soothed. “I understand your frustration. Not every challenge will be the same. These ponies will face their own obstacles. Some will be lesser than what Twilight and the girls suffered through, and some will perhaps be greater. It does not matter. Harmony has already willed them to return of magic and reunite the tribes. Equestria can live once more.” Spike hummed to himself contemplatively. “Everything the girls fought for was not in vain.”
“It shouldn’t have been lost in the first place,” Discord scoffed. “If Twilight had bothered to—”
“Twilight was my sister, Discord,” Spike warned, his voice rumbled with anger. “She was a pony, not a god. Despite what others may have thought. She could no more account for the future than anypony else. But she believed.” Spike’s stern look gave way to a wry smile. “She believed that the magic of friendship would carry on through the ages as long as there were ponies who believed in it. I knew a draconequus who believed that once too.” Now it was Discord’s turn to look sheepish.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, rubbing one arm with the other. He plopped down onto the branch; his head hung low. “That was unbecoming of me. I-I just…miss them. I thought it would get easier as the years passed, but it hasn’t. I’ve never-I don’t know how to—I wish I could explain—” Discord found he could say no more, he fell into sullen silence.
“Discord, I know,” Spike reassured him. He wished he could hug his friend. Discord seemed desperately in need of one. Sadly, his size made such a thing impossible; instead, he gently moved the tip of one of his fingers to lay against Discord’s back. It wasn’t the same, but Discord seemed to understand the intention and leaned into the outstretched finger. “I miss them too. Every single day.”
“How do you deal with it? With it all just being…gone.”
“I remember them in my own way,” Spike said. “It never goes away—the pain. Change, just like chaos itself, is a natural part of the flux of life and sometimes that change feels wrong. But when I feel as if it is too much, I remember that in some way, their lives, their accomplishments, their spirits still live—even if only through those that carry on their memories. And now I know out there perhaps someone else remembers them too.” Discord scratched his chin several times, deep in thought, before he threw his head back and let forth a rueful laugh.
“You’ve grown terribly wise, you know that?” he complained, wiping his face with a handkerchief. “Whatever happened to the kid reading comics at Twilight’s knee.”
“Thousands of years does have an appreciable transformation of the body,” Spike chuckled. He then sighed deeply. “You know I still wish I could read comics.” He held up both of his great claws before him. “Too large claws.” Discord looked over him.
“I could make you small again,” he offered.
“I think I’d get motion sickness, to be honest,” Spike replied honestly. Both of them then fell into a fit of shared laughter. After it subsided, Discord spoke again.
“I missed you, little buddy,” he said earnestly.
“I was never truly gone,” Spike said with a gleam in his eye. “As I said, none of them are. As long as we hold onto it.” He tapped his chest, roughly where his heart was situated. Discord looked down to his chest; a puzzled expression passed over his face.
“You may have a point. I’m just not sure. What if these newbies fail?”
“They will not,” Spike said.
“How do you know?”
“Because I have seen it before.” Spike flashed the spirit a knowing smile. Discord guffawed in bemusement.
“Heh, what will we do now?” Discord asked. Spike’s eyes went wide, and he found himself laughing again.
“Me? Nothing! I’m an old dragon. My days of adventure are long behind me. I think I’m entitled to a peaceful retirement.” Spike looked longingly at his cave home. “If Harmony seeks me, it knows where to find me.”
“Honestly, you used to be less boring!” Discord complained. “Weren’t you once Spike the Brave, Ambassador of Friendship, Traveller of the World? Whatever happened to that strapping young fellow?”
“And you used to be the power-mad tyrant of Equestria,” Spike shot back playfully. “As I said, change is inevitable.”
“Touché,” Discord admitted. “I don’t know if I can step away. I’m not going to interfere if that’s what you’re worried about. I just want to watch, even if it’s from afar. You know to make sure these kids are any good? They have pretty big shoes to fill.” Spike nodded.
“That they do. But, I feel they will be more than equal to the task. Call it a hunch if you will.” Spike winked at Discord. The spirit seemed to consider Spike’s words, scratching at his goatee several times. Finally, his eyes were drawn back toward the sky; he smiled slightly.
“We will see.”
And just as abruptly as he had arrived, he was then gone, blinking away in his trademark flash of light. He was eccentric like that; he never lingered long.
But it mattered little to Spike. He was just happy to speak with him again. So even though he knew the chaos lord was no longer with him, he still spoke as if he were there.
“Goodbye, Discord. May our paths cross again soon.”
Spike found himself yawning, the call of his long sleep never far from his mind. Spike shifted from his seated position back towards his cave entrance. Deep within the network of the tunnel lay the enormous mound of glowing treasure that made up Spike’s hoard. It was a collection of countless shiny baubles, gems and curiosities that had taken his interest over the centuries. Then, with thunderous steps, he moved to take his place above it.
Though of all the treasures in his possessions, none compared to a small bookshelf that stood at the side of the cave aside from the pile beneath him. The stand itself was relatively unimportant; instead, its contents proved to be his greatest possession.
A collection of pictures of friends, family and acquaintances across the generations, sometimes a small memento lay next to a corresponding image. But, of all of these, the most precious lay on the second shelf in its centre—a small, framed photo of the girls and Spike shortly after Twilight had moved to Ponyville.
Twilight was scooping him up in a hug as everypony else smiled at the camera, a moment of joy frozen in time. It’s every feature memorised to him, so he no longer needed to look directly for it. He found himself speaking to it, as he often did whenever he gazed in its direction.
“The magic of friendship lives, Twi. I don’t know if this is all that you intended in the long run. But they would have made you proud. I just know it.”
As he adjusted himself onto his hoard, he lay his head down, and sleep was quick to claim him. Soon his head was filled with images of a cosy wooden library nestled in the centre of an extraordinary village where adventured and friendship awaited him still.