Twilight Sparkle the Dragon

by PlutoMilo


Her Greatest Fear

Twilight felt like screaming when Rainbow Dash announced they might have a problem. Didn’t they have enough problems already?! She even threw her book down in a fit of rage when it occurred to the dragon that the Crystal Heart was a lost relic. No wonder the book capitalized ‘Crystal Heart’ and spoke about powering it up. Speaking of which, putting Applejack on guard duty for the fake heart probably wasn’t the best idea seeing that the farmer couldn’t lie to save her life.
The fair was going well, at least they did that correctly. Putting a full functioning fair together in one full solar cycle was impressive and Twilight was proud of her friends since they were the only ones running the booths.
Rarity was strangely silent when Twilight suggested she work the basket weaving booth. She suspected the poor unicorn was tired, after all, she’d been taxing her own magic to put up the booths and then to top it off, feverishly learn the basket patterns in time.
Now, Twilight was turning every little thing over within the castle trying to find the relic, knowing it was a lost cause. She was so distressed, she had to turn the shield over to Shining and Cadence since she was too frazzled to concentrate. Spike joined her after an hour of searching.
Frustration and distress clouded her head after the third hour and she threw a crystal bust against the floor. It exploded in a shower of pebbles before getting seamlessly repaired and set back in its place.
She fled back into the throne room so she wouldn’t break anything else. Spike opened the doors a few minutes later, staring at his mother’s hunched back. Twilight stared morosely out the paneless windows, resting her chin on the sill. Only her flicking tail gave away her anger and disappointment.
Spike didn’t say anything and sat down nearby. Twilight began to snarl her grievances.
“Celestia thought it was a wonderful idea to send a dragon into a blizzard. Celestia thought it was a wonderful idea for the Element Bearers to face down Sombra without the Elements, thinking he wouldn’t dare show his face. Celestia thought it was a wonderful idea to send nine beings into the frozen north with basically no information and only three of them can actually cast defensive spells properly.” Twilight’s voice rose to a roar that shook the castle down to its very foundations, causing the ponies below to look up nervously, “MY ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL MENTOR, THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO PIN THE RESPONSIBILITY OF AN ENTIRE EMPIRE ONTO MY SHOULDERS!”
Electricity danced between Twilight’s spiraled horns in her anger. Her rage, which was already simmering beneath the surface, exploded at the minor inconvenience of magical electricity. 
All of Twilight’s anguish, disappointment, and fear of failure, rushed to her horns as she spun around with an unadulterated howl of fury. Spike gasped and backpedaled, for once seeing Twilight how strangers see her, a bloodthirsty dragon. 
Twilight’s frills expanded along with her wings, casting the entire room into shadow as she blocked out the window. Her snout was twisted into an ugly snarl and her teeth were bared. Spike could see a hint of flame curl between her clenched teeth. Her eyes bled hatred and her claws pierced the crystal flooring. Her eyes flicked to him and he scrambled back even faster. Tears threatened to spill over his eyes as Twilight’s look of outrage drained away, seeing his terrified face.
Her face crumpled inward, immediately regretting her outburst. She took a step forward to comfort Spike but recoiled when Spike scooted away with a small bray of fear. It felt like something punched her square between the eyes when she noticed the small tears leaking from Spike’s eyes.
“Spike… I-” Her voice cracked when Spike backpedaled more at the sound of her voice, “I didn’t mean to, Spike. I’m sorry,” Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears.
She flattened her spines and tucked her wings in. Her ears folded back as she backed away from the trembling pony.
“I’m sorry,” Twilight whispered again, averting her eyes as she slumped on the floor.
After a moment, something small and shivering nestled itself against Twilight’s chest. Opening her eyes and moving very carefully, Twilight folded her arms and wings around Spike.
“I’m sorry,” she said, nuzzling through Spike’s mane carefully.
Her own tears pricked at her eyes when she felt Spike nod against her chest plates. Gently, she shifted until Spike was in her lap. She only let go when Spike pulled his head away.
“I’m happy you aren’t like that all the time. I’m sorry Celestia put so much on you,” Spike said bravely, “You’re scary sometimes but I know you won’t ever hurt me. Even if you give me time out or make me eat my vegetables,”
That elicited a wet chuckle from Twilight and she squeezed him a little tighter. Her attention was stolen when the backrest of the throne gave an odd little wiggle. Even Spike turned to look since it scraped unpleasantly against the surrounding crystals.
“I think we just found the hiding place,” Twilight said hoarsely.
Spike detached himself and shook away any lingering fear he had. Twilight warned him before charging her horns again. Spike shuddered but planted his hooves courageously, watching nervously as more and more anger and frustration filled the air. When the beam of negative emotions hit the crystal, the area in front of the throne burned away, exposing a deep spiraling staircase that led to darkness.
Seeing that the staircase was too frail to hold her weight, Twilight used them like a ladder. The further she went down, the more claustrophobic she felt and the only thing that prevented her from completely panicking was the fact that Spike was situated on her shoulders and she didn’t want to inadvertently crush him.
They arrived at the bottom on Twilight’s shaky arms and legs. She was tempted to pull a Discord and temporarily give her arms the property of jelly when she reached for the singular door. However, that thought was completely forgotten when the door slid along the wall, away from her claws.
Twilight took a fortifying breath and spoke through her teeth, warning Spike once more. She reached for the rage that boiled whenever she knew Spike was in danger, coupling it with the self-loathing that stemmed from the incident that happened above. Her horns tingled when she released the bout of emotion and the door opened silently.


Something was wrong, but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was. The words on the book in front of her blurred and floated off the page. Without a thought, the book was incinerated and the ashes were swept off the desk. She reached for a nearby quill that snapped neatly in half when she grasped it. She paid it no mind and dipped it into the inkpot. She must’ve pressed harder than she realized since the nib dug into the paper, leaving a groove before snapping off entirely.
Her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance and her tail twitched, sending a stool neatly piled with books, crashing down behind her. She spun around, prepared to glare angrily at the pile, but as she did so, her wing clipped the lone shelf near her desk that held all of the pictures of her and… some pony. There was the oddest feeling that she knew that pony, but she didn’t care to remember. Picture frames crashed down in a symphony as glass shattered.
The mess was swept aside under the desk by her back foot and the previously tipped-over books were set to burn. She turned to pluck another book off another shelf, spilling her inkwell all over her desk. The book she gripped was shredded by the force in which she held it. The mangled book was thrown on top of the spilled ink and opened so harshly, the cover tore off.
Why did everything in her life go wrong? First, it was turning into a dragon, and now the curse of being perpetually too strong. Her claws curled into fists. She took a deep breath, intending to calm down when she choked, sending her into a coughing fit. Seconds later, her desk flew across the library, having been flipped.
Papers fluttered through the air as she breathed heavily. The books continued to burn and now her walls had ink splatters from the flipped desk. What was left of the desk was also set on fire. Something deep and primal in her chest urged her to rip, destroy, maim. Her roar sent leaves fluttering down and Owlicious fleeing out the nearest window. His tail feathers were smoking by the time he managed to squeeze himself out, narrowly escaping her flames.
The door that separated the kitchen area from the rest of the library opened. A small colt with an acid green mane peered through it. Something about his little brown vest infuriated her. The way his lavender coat shined made her want to toss him into the dirt to get rid of it.
The straw that broke the camel’s back was when the colt stepped into one of the ink puddles on the ground and tracked it across the library floor as he approached. A hand shot out to grip the pony by the throat. It pathetically squealed and thrashed in her grip. Something about it was familiar but she didn’t have the time to figure it out. Her fist tightened and it began to choke.
She leered at it with a large fang-filled smile as its purple face slowly turned maroon. Such deplorable race ponies were. Her grin grew when it finally fell limp. She let it fall to the ground with a sickening thud.
Something slammed painfully into her shoulder. Her head whipped around to find her new adversary, but she was alone in the room. Again it hit her, but on the opposite shoulder. She snarled, spinning in place. The shelves rippled like mirages and disappeared, leaving her in a completely white room. She heard something far off as her shoulder was punched again. The pain made it hard to think.
Then abruptly, something slammed into the back of her head. She saw stars and when her vision cleared, she was back in front of the open door.