he day finally arrived. The last of the Hearth's Warming special trains had concluded and the engines returned to storage until spring. Smoulder’s friends had already left for the Crystal Empire the previous night, leaving Spike with little to do with his free time. He’d been so fixated on the miniature railway these past few months, his previous hobbies had become dull by comparison.
He still had his assistant duties with Twilight, of course, but he likened that to a day job. It felt like every time he came close to recovering from rejection, something would come along and spark a new wave of intrusive thoughts. It was a toxic cycle.
Mercifully, a light knock on his bedroom door dispelled its current iteration. “Come in,” he said. With the temperatures plummeting, and worse to come once they reached the Crystal Empire, he’d dressed in a plain, red jacket and a matching scarf. He did have fancier clothes for winter on special occasions, but they had been made by Rarity; she was the last pony he wanted to think about.
“Morning, Spike,” Twilight said as she entered, carrying a large saddle bag stuffed full of books for the journey. “How are you holding up?”
“Eh, fine, I guess,” Spike said dismissively. Was there any point in detailing the tangled mess that was his psyche?
“Poor Spike. If you need to talk, you know I’m always here for you.”
“I know. I… have a lot to process right now. All I need is time.”
“That’s very mature of you. I’m impressed.”
Spike fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Thanks. I appreciate it,” he said instead.
“Anyway, have you finished packing? I have a couple more bags ready to carry, though I promise they’re light this time.”
Spike grunted out a bemused chuckle. Only now, after a romantic rejection, did she realize the difficulty in balancing suitcase towers.
They made casual train talk on their way to the station, speculating on what kind of engine Smoulder would be driving from the Crystal Empire. She’d deliberately chosen a shift to coincide with Spike’s arrival, according to her letter, but there was no guarantee he’d get time to chat.
It was ironic, in a way. Their branching lines in life had done Spike’s separation work for him, yet the old saying had proved true; absence did make the heart grow fonder. He was starting to wonder if he’d been cursed, played for a fool by some nebulous entity.
After five minutes of waiting at Ponyville station, their train arrived, hauled by a forest-green tank engine with a two-six-two wheel arrangement. This would take them to Canterlot, where they’d change for a cross-country express service to the Crystal Empire. The first leg of the trip remained uneventful, with Spike drifting between periods of sleep and study.
While Ponyville’s skies were clear, a front of dark clouds had started to develop over Canterlot. The Pegasi had clearly done their best to keep the worst of the weather clear from the line, but there was only so much they could do. The closer they got to the Crystal Empire, the wilder the elements would become, often requiring specialist unicorns to keep conditions favorable.
There would be no sleep for Spike once they left Canterlot. He could hardly sit still, let alone keep his eyes closed. Was Smoulder going to be okay out there? She was a great driver, of that there was no doubt. If they weren’t confident in her ability to navigate extreme weather, they wouldn’t have hired her to begin with.
Approaching the Crystal Empire interchange, conditions hadn’t improved, but they hadn’t gotten worse, either. Snow continued falling, coating everything that wasn’t covered by the Crystal Heart’s magical dome, though they weren’t enough for the locomotive to require a snowplow.
The moment they left the train, however, any doubt over the potential for travel chaos vanished. Every Timetable Spike could see had large swaths of services crossed out, the cancellations leaving the station packed full of stranded passengers, scrambling to find any means of traveling further north. The poor station hands and ticket sellers were being run ragged under the bombardment of questions.
Amidst all the chaos, Sandbar’s flamboyant choice of attire helped him stand out, acting as a fabulous beacon for his friends. At first glance, it wasn’t clear why they hadn’t boarded the train waiting for them on platform five, but the following conversation between Smoulder and a Gryphon made the problem evident.
“What in Tartarus were you thinking?!” Smoulder snapped, smoke pouring from her nostrils. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be speeding downhill like that? We could’ve jumped the rail! Speed limits are there for a reason!”
“I’m thinking we have a schedule to keep, kiddo,” the gryphon retorted with a condescending sneer. From his graying chest feathers and hunched posture, he looked old – Not Grandpa Gruff old, but old enough to witness Griffonstone’s decay first-hand. “I know what I’m doing. If we can’t keep time, then the passengers will start complaining. On a day like this, that’s the last thing we need.”
“Excuse me? What we need? I know I’m not that experienced, but I know enough about health and safety to say that a grumpy passenger is better than a dead one! Keeping time should never come at the expense of safety!”
“You kids today are too soft.” Scraping ear wax out with his talon, the griffon flicked it in Smoulder’s direction. “And you call yourself a dragon. I don’t care what they taught you at Twilight’s prissy little Friendship School, but when you’re a grown-up, you don’t get participation trophies. You’ve either got what it takes to do the job, or you quit. Simple as.”
Smoulder clenched her fists tight, her arms shaking as her billowing smoke reached fever pitch. Never mind the engine, she looked ready to blast the gryphon’s face full of more than just steam and cinders.
One look at her was all the excuse Twilight needed to intervene. Clearing her throat loudly, the gryphon snapped to attention.
“Ah-ha, P-princess Twilight,” he stammered, eyes blinking frantically. “I-It’s an honor to m-m-meet you!”
“Save it,” Twilight said sternly. “What is your name?”
The gryphon’s expression fell. “G-Grit Grinder, ma’am.”
“Well then, Grit Grinder. As Princess of Friendship, I officially relieve you of your role as a train engineer. I’ll be speaking with your boss personally.”
“What?! You can’t just-”
“Listen. I know Smoulder is young, but she has this job based on my personal recommendation. I won’t have any creature threaten the lives of the passengers, let alone Spike’s friends. Have I made myself clear?”
“But—”
“Have I made myself clear?”
“…Fine.” The gryphon scoffed, turning his nose up at Twilight. “Good luck running the train without me.”
As Grit Grinder marched off into the crowd with his beak held high, Smoulder slumped back against the engine’s running plate and wiped the sweat from her brow. “Wow. Thanks so much, Princess Twilight. You seriously saved my hide there.”
“Well, if I’m to rule Equestria, I have to look out for its citizens,” Twilight chuckled. “And you can just call me ‘Twilight’. A friend of Spike is a friend of mine.”
The mention of his name made Spike snap to attention and stop hyper-focusing on the drama. “I’m just glad you’re alright. That guy sounds like a real piece of work.”
“Oh, you have no idea. He would not shut up about the ‘Good Old Days’ of Griffonstone.” She glanced over her shoulder to Gallus, who, like the rest of her friends, had been watching intently. “No offense.”
“None taken.” Gallus shrugged. “I got enough of that from Grandpa Gruff. I can’t think of anything more boring.”
“So, what now?” Spike asked. “You’ll be driving the engine now, right?”
“I guess I am. But without someone to manage the fire, we won’t be going anywhere. Unless…”
Spike bit his lip.
Clapping her claws together, Smoulder bowed. “I know I’m throwing you in the deep end here, but could you fire the engine up to Griffonstone? This will be the only trip, I promise.”
Of all the questions. Until now, he’d only fired miniature locomotives. The principle would be the same, just on a considerably larger scale. Even then, this was a unique locomotive design he’d only read about; one that was articulated in two places, its wheels being held at either end of the boiler, below the water and coal tanks – a Neigher-Carrot type.
It would be a challenge, but one he’d been training for. It didn’t take a genius to realize how important this was, bringing Yona and her friends to an important cultural festival. Thinking back to all he’d achieved in his short life, both as Twilight’s assistant and as the Hero of the Crystal Empire, keeping a narrow-gauge steam engine topped up on coal and water couldn’t be that hard, could it?
He looked back to Twilight, and she nodded in return. All the confirmation he needed.
“I’ll do it.”
“Oh my gosh, thank you!” Grabbing Spike’s claws, Smoulder shook them with extra vigor. “I know the route well enough, so I’ll help guide you. One way or another, we are gonna make it to Y.O.N.A Fest.”
Smiling, Spike let go of Smoulder and cracked his knuckles. “Let’s do this.”