Ihkerah snorted awake in her chair, her frills shooting up in alertness, only for her to breath and calm herself. The only thing lighting the dark room was the lit hearth, its dim glow cast over the large bed and carpets. She sat to the side, glancing over the bed to see her slumbering son, curled up in the warm quilts and thick blankets. The daughter of the first true Dragon Lord smiled, listening to her hatchling snore softly. That smirk vanished as she sensed someone at the door. With a sniff, she knew it wasn’t the Wargs. It was a pony.
Scowling, she stood and quietly made her way to the door, gently opening it to see the alicorn from before. Twilight, if Ihkerah remembered correctly, cowered under the dragoness’ gaze. She stepped past the door’s threshold and loomed over Twilight, smoothly closing the door.
Leaning down, inches from the alicorn’s face, she whispered. “What do you want?”
Twilight shivered in the dragon’s shadow, the very dragon that had loomed over the city hours before. “U-um, I-I was checking on S-Spike…”
“Hm…” Ihkerah looked her over, six orange eyes glaring down and observing the winged unicorn. “What possessed you to treat my hatchling so poorly? Abandoning him when he was rejected, abusing his loyalty. And believe me when I say that I am being very meek at this moment.”
“M-Meek?! I-I don’t see you acting shy or reclusive.” Twilight felt herself go pale as the dragoness’ eyes narrowed. “I-I mean…”
“Meekness has never been about shyness or harmlessness. No, meekness is having the power to kill and murder, but withholding. Sparing those you could easily harm.” Ihkerah stood tall, eyes still narrow. “Like I’ve done with you. And I have more than enough justification to do otherwise.”
Twilight didn’t know if she was going to pass out from blood loss. She wisely kept her mouth shut.
“Take me to Celestia.” Ihkerah snarled softly, a hiss playing in the sun alicorn’s name.
Without speaking or nodding, Twilight led the way to the Princess’ chambers. She stood off to the side next to the guard. The dragoness stepped closer to the door, only to be blocked by the guards’ spears. “Halt. The Princess isn’t— AGH!!!”
Both guards screamed in agony as the Dragoness looked at them and their armor clamped around them, bruising muscle, popping, and cracking bone. Twilight moved to yell at Ihkerah, but stopped as Celestia, in her nightgown, burst the doors open and beat the former student to the punch. “RELEASE MY GUARDS!!”
The guards were released, and both collapsed to the floor. The dragoness snorted, glaring at the pearl coated Princess. “If that woke my hatchling, you will be delt with.”
“Why are you here at this hour?” Celestia snarled, fixing her sagging crown. “And was hurting my guards really necessary?”
“They were like annoying flies, so I swatted them away. And as for the hour, one would think with a lifespan as great as yours, a few minutes of sleep won’t bother you. For my being here, I have a question.”
“What is it?” Celestia narrowed her magenta eyes at the dragon’s flaming orbs.
“From what I’ve been told, you were under the influence of drugs. And in that influence, you kept the truth from Spike and let him be malnourished. My question,” She sounded as if she wanted to spit the word out. “Is this; do you remember and regret these actions? And if so, why not show yourself to Spike when we came to your deathtrap of a capital?”
“D-deathtrap?!”
“Yes, I could tell at a glance that this city is poorly protected. No reinforced walls, no turrets, no wards. Camped on the side of a mountain, completely exposed to the elements and attack. It’s a wonder that your civilization hasn’t crumbled sooner.” Ihkerah groaned, clenching her fangs. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
Celestia, still tired and angry, grumbled with her ears flat. She recalled snippets and clips of memory, but much was still fuzzy, even after fifty years. “I remember, but I’d never meant to hurt him.” She expected some outburst from the dragon, but none came. The dragoness just stood there, patiently listening. “I was so under that very little made sense. The Priests didn’t want Spike knowing what he was, potentially being an unknown type of dragon with tremendous power. They didn’t like a scenario where he would wipe them out, so they thought they’d let him die in ignorance. So, they had me give him the necklace and cast the spells. He would’ve lived a very short life and died without knowing, so thank you. Thank you for helping him.”
“You mean thank you for saving him.” The dragoness snarled. “All I hear are excuses. Excuse after excuse. Why couldn’t you muster enough willpower or magic to push through the drug’s effect? Why not take a stand against them? Why not fight them for ownership of your country? Why pawn it off on someone else? Why Havaak? Why those six mares? I see no Princess, Queen, or Empress in front of me, only a cowering foal. And yes, I do know what you call your infants, just as insects call their hatchlings ‘grubs.’ But I haven’t stepped on this little colony because my hatchling finds you so endearing. If it were otherwise, I would’ve stomped this meager anthill into the dirt centuries ago.”
It was then that she felt a familiar presence from far below their feet. Ihkerah ignored the stoically trembling and weeping ponies, focusing on that power. Breathing in and out, she finally grasped the name of that power’s owner. She smirked. “So, that fat worm finally woke.”
“W-what?” Twilight asked at the dragoness’ feet, cheeks stained with tears.
Deciding to entertain the feathered miniature unicorn, she answered. “My brother finally woke up after hibernation. That idiot always loved his naps. Too bad he could never love a female more.”
Deep below, Fraxxak sneezed an underground hurricane into existence.
Deciding to wordlessly dismiss the ponies for the remaining night, she slowly meandered back to her’s and Spike’s room. She hadn’t wanted the ponies to apologize to her, but she wanted them to at least think about expressing regret to Spike. Though, with the appearance of Fraxxak, it would make for an entertaining day.
Stepping into the room, she saw that Spike was already out of bed, stretching in the morning light. “You slept well?”
Spike jumped at his mother’s voice, feeling her commanding aura through his own meager power. “Uh, good, I guess. But, compared to the bed I have at home, this one’s like a slab of rock.”
Ihkerah let a smile grace her lips. “Ah, feeling too privileged?”
“Uh, maybe?” Spike blushed and chuckled. He could see behind the smile; she was annoyed and angry. The slight edge in her voice tipping him off. “You talked with Twilight?”
“And Celestia.” She admitted as her smile fell, not wanting to keep him in the dark. “They are… remorseful.”
A dark look overtook the young drake. “And, let me guess, they’re avoiding the fact.”
“Correct. They seem to be experts at beating around the bush.” Walking up to Spike, the dragoness wrapped her arms and molding wings around her hatchling, holding him tightly to her superheated scales. “Four days and still no apology. I’m beginning to wonder if they’re even remotely remorseful.”
Spike sighed in preparation for the floodgates, relaxing in her grip. “I would’ve thought she’d…” he trailed off, holding back tears.
“Ssssshhhh…” The Ahamkara of Storms shushed her son, intertwining her tail around and between his. “If she dares to continue this behavior by the end of the week, I will personally bring this decrepit capital to ruin. I will hold back my wrath no more.”
Spike tried and failed to hide a hiccup, numb to the potential deaths of unknown ponies. “C-could you at least protect Twilight?”
“Given that she is the single pony to apologize to you, I will. In the calamity, no harm will befall her, my dear hatchling.” She nuzzled the top of his horned head, her pointed chin scraping his indigo scales.
Spike had gone to the main six’s funerals, each within the past few days. The trip to Ponyville had been short but felt like an eternity. Seeing each of the mare’s coffins had wrenched his heart, the world fading away in his sorrow. Ihkerah had hugged him exactly like this as he wept, staying silent so he could morn. It was somewhat easier to take their deaths, as he’d known their end would come soon. He was honestly happy that he wasn’t there to see them pass, it felt like it made their deaths easier to swallow.
“F-fifty years and I still cry like a baby…” Spike bemoaned, sniffling in his mother’s embrace.
“Fifty years is a month in our lifetime.” Ihkerah stated matter-of-factly, a warm smile splitting her snout. “And there is no shame in needing to weep, we all must when we lose something. Whether the loss is large or small, we are always allowed to cry. Let no one tell you different.”
“O-ok…” They stayed in this embrace for a long moment before there came a knock at the door. Ihkerah held back a groan and uncoiled herself from her son, nuzzling his forehead.
Turning to open the door, she found a small blue mare in a maid outfit. The mare’s green eyes shrank as she stood under the dragon’s shadow. “M-miss? T-the P-princess will s-see you n-now f-for breakfast…”
“Good.” She stepped back into the room to put her robes on, asking if Spike did so as well. The dragoness then passed the trembling mare with Spike following, wiping his eyes. They made it to the dining hall, opening the grand doors to find the two pony princesses, Damian and Greg, eating their own meals.
Ihkerah slowly stalked her way towards the ponies, coming to take a seat next to Celestia, with Twilight across from her and Spike to her right. “I probably should have said this earlier, but good morning.”
“G-good morning.” Twilight did her best not to stutter in her terror of the dragoness, focusing her attention on the second new arrival. She actually managed a smile for him, sounding much more relaxed. “Good morning, Spike.”
“Morning…” He did his best to the remaining tears.
“Spike? Were you crying?!” Before Spike could say anything, the purple mare rounded on Ihkerah, her fear forgotten in her brother’s protection. “What did you do to him?! Do you have any idea how hard coming back has been for him?! And now you go and make him cry?!”
Ihkerah ignored the little alicorn’s rant as it spiraled on, paying her no mind. Spike shrunk in his seat, blocking out Twilight’s rant, the practice he’d used years ago surviving him well. She went on for another hour before she finally concluded.
Twilight sat in her seat, panting with her face in a grimace. The dragoness had ignored her entire speech!! Didn’t she even care about Spike and his feelings?!
“Ah, you’ve finally shut up. Good.” Ihkerah smiled, leaning forward, and folding her talons. This single action made Twilight shiver and her face went pale. “You preach but do not practice. You speak of love and support, yet you failed him then, and you’re failing him now. I’m not surprised he left your miserable land; it reeks of hypocrisy. Now, why don’t you do what a princess does and look pretty. After all, that is what you were proposed for; a re-sellable pretty doll.”
One of her blazing orange eyes twitched, looking off into the distance. She smirked. “I can even see a few still stocked on the shelves~”
Twilight was aghast, mentally drawing a blank in the wake of the Dragoness’ onslaught. With a deep frown on her face, Celestia stood up. She placed her hands on the table, leaning forward with her sneer. “Leave.”
Ihkerah deflected Celestia’s intimation roll, looking to the alicorn with boredom. “Not until you’ve apologized.”
“For what?”
The Daughter of the First Dragon Lord furrowed her brows, her sharp teeth grinding. “For deceiving Spike and neglecting his needs. For keeping him blind and powerless. It’s no wonder he left you all in the dust.”
Twilight tried to come up with a justification, stammering in her seat. Celestia, on the other hand, balled her fists and lit her horn. Eyes shining and rainbow mane bursting into flame, the Princess stood up to face the dragoness.
Yet Ihkerah didn’t even blink at the display, only smiled.
Celestia sneered. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through in the past five decades?! Our magic is gone, our farms are dying, and our protection is whittled down to a single alien god!”
“That sounds awful.” The Dragoness gave a mock gasp of horror. “But not my issue.”
“Fang, your Leader, is the one that stole—“ Celestia stopped as Ihkerah got in her face, six eyes narrowed in rage.
“I am the Mistress of the Nahar. Havaak is my subordinate, yet he still leads the Wargs. I, Ihkerah, Daughter of the First Dragon Lord and the Living Calamity, am no one’s pet.” She spat the last word, her growl of bottled wrath shaking the city. “Speak such words again and I will make good on the promise I made to my Hatchling.”
“Y-you dare--!”
Ihkerah closed her eyes and grasped the alicorn’s horn, blocking her magic. Twisting and holding tight to where Celestia began crying in agony, Ihkerah breathed deep and opened her blazing eyes. “No. You… dare, to think so little of me. I have shown restraint when exercising my great power. I have likewise exercised my patience when dealing with your kind. But no more… Equestria shall burn under my shadow.”
Spike visibly shuttered. “M-mom… remember?”
“I do.” The dragoness’ eye flicked to Twilight. “She will be safe in the coming carnage.”
“W-wait, WHAT!?!” Twilight panicked, finally processing what was going on. “I-I didn’t agree to thi—” In a flash of light, she was teleported to Ponyville.
The dragoness then looked to her son and Wargs, instantly teleporting them to the outskirts of the mountain. Ihkerah looked back to Celestia, eyes cold as ice. “For you, I have no such mercy.”
Gripping just enough to crack the horn, Ihkerah smirked as the alicorn struggled and wept. Celestia swore and cursed by every entity she knew, trying again and again to cast a spell, but all she got was a few golden sparks. Deciding to get a bird’s eye view, the dragoness shifted a pair of large wings onto her back, smashing through the roof and hovering high above the mountain. She looked to Celestia, the mare still crying and trying to punch the dragon’s claws. Ihkerah just chuckled.
Looking back down at the city, she stretched out a claw. “For harming my family, watch yours burn.”
An instant later, the streets cracked with spraying fire, towers collapsed, roofs caved, and walls shattered. Celestia watched helplessly as her city burned below her, clamping her ears to her head to try and muffle the screams of her subjects. The alicorn sobbed as she witnessed everything; stallions, mares, and foals burning. Homes, shops, and her once grand palace all crumbled and melted. With a flex of the dragon’s claw, the mountainside cracked, the ledge that had supported the city collapsing, and sending the city of Canterlot to its demise.
But Ihkerah wasn’t done.
For so long, she’d held herself back. Not letting her instincts take hold, to remain above the beastly Wyrms and their animalistic tendencies. For now, Ihkerah let herself slip into a more beastly frame of mind. Summoning her power, she commanded the ruined city to rise, rising above the mountain peak. There, the ruins hovered. Pony skeletons and burnt corpses lined the fragments of devastated streets. The remaining walls formed a single tower. And there, the dragoness dropped Celestia. Surrounded by her former subject’s bones, the dragoness left her to weep. “I let you live as a secondary penalty.”
Ihkerah then felt her brother’s presence shift, vertically climbing towards them. She could feel him commanding the earth out of his path, not even using his claws. And, his aura was smaller, having shifted to his smaller form. A common courtesy in dragon culture; if one shifted to a smaller form, you are to as well. Within seconds, there was a distant and small explosion of rock as Fraxxak made his exit from the earth.
Soaring into the skies next to the floating ruin was an inky dragon with a pale underbelly. Scales sharp and rugged, a pair of wings sprouted from his hips. Thin but strong, his build reflecting his power.
Three vertical, red eyes stared at Ihkerah. “I was having a good sleep! Why did you to go making racket over my head?”
“Oh, I was?” She fainted innocent. “How silly of me~”
Fraxxak grumbled, sighing in frustration as he drifted over to her. “Do you have to make my life miserable? Is that a hobby of yours?”
“Maybe~” Ihkerah smirked, noting the scarlet crystals that jutted between his scales in several places. “What’s that? Trying to imitate an Ulkvah?”
“Huh?” Fraxxak looked down at himself and groaned. “All that magic around me… these growths.”
“Sleep too long? Those crystals probably contain enough residual magic to detonate this continent.”
“Don’t you think I know?” Fraxxak snarled, fire escaping his jaws. “I’ll get rid of it.”
“You could pass it on.”
“And what? Give you even more power? One of the moons, even this very world has been cracked by your claws, Ihka!” He snarled again, his voice hard enough that it made Celestia flinch. It was then that he noticed the trembling alicorn. “What’s this?”
Ihkerah absentmindedly looked Celestia’s way, as if she’d forgotten about her. “Oh, this is… was the Princess of Equestria. And for years of abuse to your new nephew, she now lives in the ruins of her castle.”
“What exactly did she do to him?” It seemed he was used to meeting new family, especially after his naps.
“Hid his power and malnourished him to the point he was weak.” The words of her cold reply made him hiss. “I knew you’d agree.”
“On this, yes. That time you beat my head into the moon, no.” Fraxxak looked around the chamber of scorched marble and charred bones expectantly. “So, where’s this new nephew?”
“Right this way, Frax.” Ihkerah smirked as she walked past her brother, smacking his horns with her long tail.
Both dragons left Celestia in her floating tower, returning to the ground near Spike, Damian, and Greg. Fraxxak looked Spike over, looming over the young drake.
“Uh, hi?” Spike smiled awkwardly.
The once slumbering dragon hummed, looking over his nephew. “Greetings, my nephew. What is your name?”
“Spike.” His brow furrowed, focus leaving him as he sank deep into his own mind.
Sensing her son’s thoughts in her mind, Ihkerah stepped closer, discarding the wings she had. “You would like a new one?”
“I think I would, yeah. Equestria isn’t what it used to be, and almost everypony I knew is gone. They won’t remember me anyways; the only thing I really did was save a far-off kingdom. And it’s probably in ruins like Canterlot is.” Spike looked to his mother. “Got any ideas?”
After some thought, she smiled. “It was a name I had planned to give one of my previous hatchlings. Though sadly, the little dear couldn’t meet the world’s strength. He was stillborn. I now gift you his name…Arkihs.”
“Arkihs? What’s that mean?”
“Fortress.”
“Heh…” Spike found himself liking the name, preferring it over his past name. From Spike, a name one might dismiss as a headstrong fool, to a name that meant impenetrable. Yes, Arkihs found he liked the name very much. He felt as if the name alone gave him lacking confidence. “I’m Arkihs, O Mother Mine.”
“Indeed, O Child Mine~” Ihkerah smiled, adoring that he was using the Words of Power that all Ahamkara knew. “Now then, Fraxxak, I believe you had a gift for Arkihs?”
Fraxxak stepped closer to his nephew and placed his claw on the young dragon’s temple, transferring his residual power. Arkihs grunted and clenched his fangs, slowly accepting the magic. Within seconds, the crystals on Fraxxak’s scales disappeared, black and purple crystals materialized between and over Arkihs’. The young drake sighed, his legs trembling as he regained his bearings.
“W-what was that?” He gasped, choking down the lump in his throat.
“It was the magic I’d built up over my hibernation. Mammals store calories and nutrients in fat, we store excess magic in crystal growths. Granted, the more magic you store, the bigger the crystals.” Fraxxak shrugged.
“And you just… gave me your magic? But you slept for a long time, why weren’t your crystals bigger?”
“I have a big body; it expects a lot of magic to sustain.”
“What does this mean for me? All these crystals? I just have lots of magic. Why doesn’t mom have any in her small body?”
“You basically just asked why I’m not fat.” Ihkerah gave her son a deadpan, chuckling it off. “But to answer; I’m very good at managing my crystal growth.”
Fraxxak leaned in next to Arkihs, smirking. “Thus is why she walks everywhere; she has to keep active somehow.”
She gave her brother a much more menacing deadpan. “Enough about crystals, leave that to the Umbra. Now, off to the Dragon Lands. Brother, will you join us?”
“No, I think I’ll just take a walk, or maybe fly. Been a bit.” Fraxxak smirked, spreading his wings, and taking to the skies. Arkihs watched his uncle fly south, vanishing into the clouds.
-=Meanwhile=-
Another shockwave of electrically charged shells was released, the Commander of the Quin armies stood at his table, in the safety of his tent. The boar loomed over his maps and books of strategy, flickering lamp resting nearby to provide light in the dark shelter. They had been in battle with the Wargs for several years, twenty to be exact. They had lost many, as had their enemy. Commander Tekkon Duur wasn’t about to let their sacrifices be in vain if they lost. The Wargs were powerful, but the Quin had their own hand of cards, dealing in advanced chemistry and tactical warfare. The Wargs seldom saw war, true war. The Wargs had faced battles and hardships, yes. Who hadn’t? But Wars spanning generations as the Quin did? Unlikely.
“Sir!” Tekkon was pulled from his thoughts by a messenger, dressed in ragged armor and a blue cape.
“Speak.” The Commander’s voice boomed, deep as a dragon’s bowls. Tekkon knew, the scars from acid were a testament to that.
“T-the Wargs. T-they’re pulling back!”
Tekkon blinked. Why? “Is there a new flag being raised?”
“T-that’s correct…” The envoy’s face went pale.
“Well? Who’s flag is it?!”
“The 187th, sir… the Death Corpse…”
Commander Tekkon Duur’s face turned white as his wife’s wedding gown. “Ra-raise the white flag…”
“T-that’s also a problem… it burned in a fire.”
“THEN GET YOUR CLEAN UNDERWEAR IF YOU MUST, BUT GET A WHITE ANYTHING RASIED!!!”
“Y-yes sir!!!” He was gone.
Tekkon rushed after the messenger, racing up the planks to the trench, and snatching the bifocals from his Sargent. Shakily putting the lenses up to his eyes, he saw wave upon wave of gasmasks, all armed with not guns, pistols, swords, or spears. They carried shovels.
Then came the sound of their march. Synchronized. Thunderous. Not a step out of place.
The ground trembled as much as Tekkon, the Corpse’s march unyielding. Even as a tattered white cloth was raised. They still marched.