//------------------------------// // Chapter 7 - This is how a dragon sulks. // Story: Growing Up Dragon // by Hasty Revision //------------------------------// Smolder liked digging. Down in the tunnels the only rules were what she needed to do to not get buried. There weren't any manners to remember. There wasn't anything she could ruin with a sneeze. No ponies to panic, yaks to offend, hippogriffs to upset, or changelings disguised as rocks to accidentally try to nap on. There was just her and the ground. And the gems, of course. She wasn't gonna dig and not get a meal out of it. Especially after bailing out on lunch. Running was stupid of her. They were all gonna think she was upset, which was stupid because she wasn't. She just wanted to dig, that was all. She was sick of their pony food and pony rules. It was good to just be a dragon digging for gems. Speaking of, Ponyville's underground was packed with gems. The walls around her glittered with them in the dull light filtering down the tunnel from some larger chamber along the way. It was no wonder that Professor Rarity had run into a diamond dog pack just outside of town, or that a grownup had tried to settle in the nearby mountain range. A grownup the ponies had chased away. She landed at the next likely spot. Loose material, nothing that was holding up the ceiling, streaks of green woven into the blue-gray rocks. A quick flick of her tongue, out and then dragged over the roof of her mouth, brought the taste of tourmaline she was looking for. Common as quartz, except way tastier and even less filling. In pony terms: junk food. She drew in a deep breath through her mouth and then, just when her lungs felt full, drew in that little bit extra through her nose. Then she unleashed a full-mouthed torrent of flame up and down the rock wall. Tiny fissures split wider and deeper between the gems and stone under the withering heat. By the time her flame faded there were plenty of cracks big enough for her to get her talons into. She growled and tore into the wall until she finally ripped a fist-sized hunk of tourmaline from the rock and crammed it in her mouth and chomped down. She'd barely finished swallowing before she was back at it. “Smolder?” Smolder whipped around on the spot, wings spread and teeth bared. The vicious growl she'd been about to fire off shriveled up in her throat when she saw Ocellus shrink back around the corner of the tunnel. Instead, she huffed and crossed her arms. “What do you want?” “Um…” the blue changeling leaned out cautiously. “Some of the teachers are looking for you. Spike, too. They asked if we'd seen you.” Smolder hunched her wings and turned back to where she'd been digging. “Don't care.” She dug her talons back into the dirt and stone. “They-- can keep looking! Rrrgh! All day! For all! I! Rrrh! Care!” Another chunk of tourmaline broke loose and got crammed straight into her mouth just like the first. “Whaf yeu gunna du aboud id?” “Did something bad happen?” Ocellus rubbed one foreleg against the other. “They were pretty worried about you--” “They're worried about me?” Smolder said, incredulously. “I'm the one with fire breath.” Stone flaked away under talons once more. “I'm the one who can crush rocks with my teeth!” “Um—” “I'm the one! Who! Rrrgh! Has to tip-toe around all day!” A gleaming shard snapped free and got chewed to glitter. “Ah'm thuh wun hu--” she swallowed roughly “—terrorizes villages.” “You haven't terrorized Ponyville,” Ocellus countered. “Yet,” Smolder grumbled. Ocellus picked her way through the rubble until she was a couple lengths away and just stood there waiting while Smolder picked halfheartedly at the wall. It didn't take long for the dam to burst. She told Ocellus everything that'd happened. The lesson and all the irritation she'd felt about it. The awkward start to the lunch, and the argument which ended it. She did her best to repeat everything the counselor and headmare taught her about magic. And then to describe what had happened to Oil Quench, from the accident to the moons of treatment that still left her horribly scarred. Then she told Ocellus all about how a dragon raids. “So, yeah. I just found out I'm a monster.” Smolder sat down heavily. “No big deal.” Ocellus settled down a pace or two to Smolder's left. “I know the feeling.” Smolder shot her friend a glare. “How would you know the feeling?” A swirl of greenish-blue magic leapt up around Ocellus like a gout of flames. In an instant she went from soft blue to greasy black. Irregular holes riddled her legs like bug-chewed leaves, and her glittery frill and tail turned to spiky fins that were almost dragon-ish. Her eyes were still greenish, but they'd gone all pale and dull. “Oh.” Smolder rubbed the back of her neck. “Right.” “Mm-hm.” Smolder turned her eyes back to the floor. She'd thought changelings looked a lot cooler before they did the whole 'sharing' thing back when she'd seen pictures of them at school. But seeing Ocellus that way, as herself rather than her old queen? She didn't look cooler at all. She looked… sick. “You ever feel like you still are? I mean,” Smolder rubbed the back of her neck, “I know you kinda had a thing about it when the Tree of Harmony pulled that 'face your fear' stunt on us but… I'd totally get it if you still got hung up on it sometimes.” Ocellus shrunk down a little more and started rubbing one leg against the other. “Not as much as I used to, not since the cave. But… sometimes. If I get too hungry, even if it's just for food. Did I ever tell you how changelings used to feed?” “Uh… you used to go copy other creatures and steal love from the creatures who cared about them, right?” “That's how the gatherers got love, but grubs can't infiltrate. Neither can the drones who had to protect the hive from monsters. Even when I grew up, a worker like me wouldn't go out with the drones to steal love.” Smolder looked over to her friend again, claw raised to stop her. “What's the difference between a worker and a drone, again?” Ocellus gave her a look like she'd just asked a really dumb question, but only a for a moment. “Oh, I never actually told you that. Um, drones are boys and workers are girls.” “Ohhh. So, your guys do all the love stealing? Uh, did?” “Mm-hm. Drones were in the Swarm, too. That's our military.” She buzzed her wings nervously. “That's all mixed up now, though. Pharynx is taking any changeling who's still willing to fight, drone or worker. It's a lot easier to fight when you're always starving.” “…Yeah.” “They used to make me fight.” Ocellus held up one of her legs like she was looking at the holes. “A gatherer would get thrown into the nursery and we'd all jump on him to steal as much of the love he was carrying as we could. If we couldn't get it from him, we'd take it from the ones who did.” “Whoa, that's harsh.” Ocellus shuddered hard enough to make her plates rattle. A burst of fiery magic turned her back to her normal form. “It's better now. We can get all the love we need from each other. And all our bugs, fungus, and vegetables are growing so much better with the throne gone that we don't have to ration them anymore either. We're even allowed to season our normal meals instead of waiting for the next gourd fest.” Her ears drooped. “There was a lot of fighting over food in them too. Mainly the gourds.” “Dragons don't really fight over food that much. We compete for it. Y'know, feats of strength, races, fire duels, that sorta thing. I guess it's like… if you show that you're tough enough then you can skip the fight because it's obvious you'd win.” An uncomfortable silence fell over the two of them. Smolder couldn't guess what her friend was thinking, but she felt like her head was gonna burst from everything she'd had hammered into it so far. Not to mention all the friendship lessons telling her what she should do next. Because Spike had, at some point she couldn't pin down, become her friend, and she could practically hear Professor Dash telling her how 'uncool' it was of her to run out on her friend like that. Professor Fluttershy would say it wasn't very nice of her to let him and everyone else worry about her. Professor Rarity would call it selfish, and Professor Pie would… probably try to give her a cupcake or something. Most annoying was what Professor Applejack would say: the she needed to go and talk to them honestly about everything that was going on until they all found a way to fix it. “Smolder--?” “Fiiine,” she groaned as she stood up and dusted her claws off. “I'll go talk to them about it. …Right after I grab that gem.” She grabbed an especially large dark green prism and started tugging. “I'm not talking about feelings on an empty stomach.” “I owe you an apology, Smolder.” Those were not the first words Smolder had expected to hear out of the Headmare's mouth once they were alone. The flight back to school was short, but it was nothing compared to how fast she'd been dragged to the Headmare's office. Professor Dash spotted her pretty much the second she and Ocellus landed in the yard, and that was that. The search was called off, Ocellus was asked to give them a moment, and Smolder was dropped smack in front of Twilight's desk and left to wait for a lecture. Only that didn't seem to be what she was getting. “For what?” Smolder asked. “I'm the one who didn't get how fragile ponies are.” “And it was my responsibility to make sure you learned about that. Resolving these sorts of differences is part of why I founded this school in the first place.” Twilight brought a hoof to her chest. “I should have talked to you about all of this right from the beginning instead of panicking over causes of death. Because we've both been making assumptions.” “Like what?” “Well, for one thing, I've been treating you like a child this whole time. I had no idea that dragons your age were so independent until Spike told me what you taught him about the Molt. It still didn't really sink in until today. If I'd have sat down and discussed things with you much earlier, like adults, maybe we could've avoided all of this.” Smolder shrugged. “I probably wouldn't have bought any of it if you had. I grew up hearing all sorts of crazy stories about what pony magic can do. No way I'd have believed you over my parents.” She hunched her shoulders, arms crossed. “Oil Quench's scars are pretty tough to argue with though. I should've taken you seriously when you warned me about how dangerous dragon stuff is for ponies.” Twilight bowed her head, her ears drooping along with it. She looked about as miserable as Gallus had back at Hearth's Warming. “And I should have trusted you. Dragons assumed that we could use magic to fix anything bad that happened to us, so it didn't matter what you did in raids. Ponies always assumed that dragons just didn't care, and I was scared that attitude would rub off on Spike. I know Spike probably seems really pony-ish to dragons… but to a pony? There are things about him that are so obviously not pony-like. The things he's willing to eat are proof enough of that.” She shook her head as she sat back in her seat. “It's so hard to know what's nature and what's nurture. And then to worry that the nurture he's getting is bad for his nature.” “I don't know about all that stuff. It's not like dragon parents always raise their kids right either, y'know.” “Neither do ponies. My dad used to make jokes about having 'lost the manual' the hospital gave him.” Smolder raised a brow. “Wait, seriously? My dad said he must've napped through his parents telling him how to raise hatchlings.” Twilight giggled. “I guess dads are dads. The point is, Smolder, that I was wrong to treat these lessons like they're a threat to Spike. We teach foals about the strife between the tribes before Equestria and it doesn't make them decide to turn against other kinds of ponies, and I shouldn't have been afraid that learning about raiding would make Spike turn on Equestrians. It's a part of his heritage and he has as much right to explore it as any pony does theirs.” “Whoawhoawhoa! Hold up!” Smolder sprang into the air over the desk, waving her claws to stop the Headmare. “No way! Have you lost it? You can't tell me all about how fire can wreck all your stuff and then tell me you want me to teach Spike how to raid!” “Smolder, it's--” “Did you even see Oil Quench!?” “Smolder!” Twilight shouted. She stood up on her seat with wings flared. “Calm down! I have a plan.” Smolder rocked back in the air, arms folded. “Oh yeah? I've seen how ponies fight off dragons. If there was anything that'd make it safe you'd have used it by now.” “Do you remember what we told you about the limitations of magic and how we can't just do whatever we want with it?” Twilight sheepishly rubbed one leg against the other. “There is one teensey little exception to all that.” “And that is…?” Twilight glanced off to the side. Something about the way she said her next sentence gave Smolder a bad feeling about this 'plan' of hers. “It's, uh, really more of a 'who', actually…”