//------------------------------// // Dreams of the Lost // Story: The Element of Magic // by PlutoMilo //------------------------------// TW: Intrusive thoughts that deal with harming children, mention of a parental figure leaving, slight body horror, mentions of previous physical abuse, ableism, objectification of a character. Skipping this chapter is totally okay, there will be notes at the bottom with a small summary of the chapter if you’d rather not read this one. Take care of yourselves. When Twilight blinked, there was a jarring surge of unfamiliarity. The air in the Tower didn’t smell right. Magic did not swirl through her abode like usual. It was all sterile, lacking the sensation of home. But the sunlight falling through her window was absolutely divine. It was warm and Twilight had to fight the impulse to yawn and curl up further in her bed. She didn’t particularly feel like herself. Some distant part of her flailed and screamed to be heard, but Twilight’s eyelids drooped and warmth suffused in her bones. A quick mental check confirmed she still had all of her horns, claws, and scales. She was worrying over nothing. Probably just the aftermath of the strange dream she had. Kitchenware clattered somewhere downstairs and Twilight let out a comforted sigh. Spike was probably making breakfast himself because he was a “big dragon now”. She stretched, feeling the pleasant burn of her muscles up and down her back. The floor was abnormally cold and she shivered, feeling the tip of her tail go numb despite only being out of the covers for a short time. She stretched again, digging her blunt claws into the tiles and cringing as they scraped noisily along. A new scent drifted under her nose, that of her son. She ambled down the stairs to find him. Just as she thought, he was trying to make pancakes and oats, squinting at the cookbook and then squinting at the ingredients he had in the bowl. “And what is little Heir Sparkle doing up at this hour?” Twilight jested playfully after observing the proceedings for a while, “Surely not up for school already? I haven’t even had coffee yet!” The cold had made its way up her claws and tail to settle somewhere in the middle of her limbs. The sun pouring in from the windows near the roof provided much-needed warmth. Almost as an afterthought, Twilight lit her horns to heat the oven, something Spike had forgotten to do. For a singular moment, Spike’s green slit eyes flashed with something like hatred and anger. “Don’t need your help.” Twilight chuckled, long since used to his unpredictable mood swings. The woes of raising a teenage dragon. Her tongue rested awkwardly in her mouth and she flicked it out several times to get to sit properly. The cold was beginning to crawl up her ears and neck. “Alright, alright. Budge over, you great lump. I need my coffee.” “Aren’t you hilarious,” Spike hissed, stabbing at the batter with a certain viciousness one would reserve for enemies and the like, “Don’t want me like Dad didn’t want us?” Twilight rolled her eyes, fins prickling, “We don’t talk about Dad. What’s got you in such a mood?” “Don’t care, don’t ask.” There was a moment of silence that wasn’t really silent as Twilight looked at her son reproachfully. The oven hummed and the bowl of pancake batter clattered on the countertop. Her wings were growing numb from how cold it was and her breath was beginning to fog up when she breathed. Spike ignored her, going to look at the instructions again, claws scratching. “Well-” “For all that is Holy, shut up.” A sharp intake of breath. In. Out. In. Out. Twilight resists the horrendously strong urge to put her claws around her son’s neck and squeeze. Her claws squealed something awful as she spins where she stands. Her tail smacks into the table and wood groans when it shifts in place. She grips the doorknob so hard it aches. It’s probably far too strong for such a simple motion, evident when she lets go of it and there’s an imprint of her claws left behind. A growl rumbles in Spike’s throat as Twilight leaves. It festers and rots like a split watermelon left out in the summer. As his mother, she should’ve growled back. She should’ve stormed back into the house, showed him who paid the bills, and put food on the table. A voice in her mind told her she was being too kind, too generous. Expect Spike to kneel and bare his neck when she returned and thank her for such mercy, something told her. A jet of smoke escaped her nose at the thought. So much for basking in the aftermath of her wonderful dream. She hadn’t had such a pleasant dream in Celestia knew how long. Life would’ve turned out much easier if Spike were a pony and his father decided to stay in the picture. Well, she wasn’t sure if she could say that. Even in her dream, Spike hadn’t had a father. Maybe she should drop by the Manor and greet her parents before meeting with her brother to clear her head. Twilight nodded to herself and set course for her childhood home. As she flew, she couldn’t shake that odd feeling. There were hardly any ponies out on the streets, but that was normal for this hour of the day. Not every pony liked to wake up at the crack of dawn. Twilight hummed as she landed, opening the doors to her old home. She brushed off the strange distaste that bubbled up. Why would the fine marble statues or the gleaming wallpaper invoke that feeling? Her parents had impeccable tastes as all noble families in Canterlot should. She Magicked the door shut, dusting off her claws as she did so. She was glad it wasn’t so cold anymore. The foyer was still dark as was expected. She lit her horns so she could locate that switch that was at that awkward angle where she couldn’t quite reach for it comfortably. She flicked it on with a twist of Magic, bathing the entrance hall in candlelight. Her father was probably still in the gardens and hadn’t gotten around to making breakfast yet. Her mother would likely still be sleeping until noon like always. She’d missed this, ever since living on her own. Her parents constantly assured her there was space in the Manor for all of their children and their children’s children, but Twilight, as kind as it was, felt it to be a little too stifling. Perhaps she should consider moving back in. It would provide more claws on deck for Spike’s attitude. If she’d ever talked back to her parents like Spike did to her, oh she wouldn’t be sleeping for days after, every part of her body smarting and achy from the beatings. It might do Spike some good. Twilight stretched, admiring the skulls on the wall from her father’s successful hunts. The cold crept back in, icy veins of fear that had no business interrupting her visit to the Manor. She wandered through the rooms, heading toward the backyard door. Various portraits hung on the walls. There she was, freshly hatched from her iridescent purple egg, surrounded by her parents and Shining Armor. Then Spike hatching, surrounded by his grandparents, Twilight, and Spike’s father. Her lip curled upon seeing his oh-so-forgettable eyes and bland smile. Ice condensed onto her chest plates, chilling her. She slid open the sliding backyard door and poked her head out. She waved to her father, smiling when he waved back, horns wreathed in broken branches and scales stained with dirt. With that done, she nodded in satisfaction and charged her horns for a teleport to the Guards' Quarters. She warped to the Courtyard with her classic purple sparkles drifting away into the grass.  Her brother yelped at her sudden appearance, missing his jump and tumbling until he crashed into Twilight. She laughed heartily as they rolled horns over tails to a stop. Rocks dug into her back and dust kicked into the air making her fight the urge to sneeze. She snapped her teeth near his ear playfully and dodged the retaliatory tail whip with practiced ease. Her brother growled, tackling her again and they rolled around the grass much like they had as hatchlings. It ended up with her brother hunched over her. The grass tickled her scales. For a moment, her body froze in fear and unease. The breeze blew pleasantly. But her brother growled playfully again and the feeling dissipated like a wisp. She lurched up, heaving her body to unbalance him, and switched their positions. He laughed, dropping his head down to the dirt. “I care about you, you know. I love you so much but I don’t know how to show it in a proper manner. I want you to know that. I’m your big brother. Remind me the next time you see me. I forget a lot.” Where was this coming from? Of course her brother loved her! Why would he say something like that? Did they have a fight recently? She wracked her brains but came up blank. A chunk of ice grew in her heart, poking and prodding at places that shouldn’t ever feel those sensations. His eyes glinted in the dark and he had a sad smile. “Remember that, my dear, dear sister. Please.”  Twilight nodded, still unsure. Her chest ached. Something inside of her wavered. The feeling from this morning came back. Who was she? She was Twilight Sparkle. But she was not herself. Something was wrong. She flexed her claws, looking closely. Those were her claws, as was the rest of her body. How could she be Twilight Sparkle, but not be herself? “Wake up, sister dear,” her brother murmured, hugging her close, “You know this place is not for you. Wake up dear. Please.” Her scales split neatly along invisible seams, bloodless and painless. Crystals of ice grew out and gleamed in the sun. Why the sun? It was dark. “I-I want to remember,” Twilight said, choking on the tears that came with a vengeance. Why was she crying? “You will,” Her brother reassured, stroking the small line of fur that went from her head to her tail, “But you will need to wake up first, dearest.” “I-” Not-Shining Armor pressed his scaly forehead to hers, twining their spiraling horns together, “Wake up.” Something slotted into her chest. She was Twilight Sparkle. Her son was Spike Sparkle and he was a pony. He had no father. Her brother, Shining Armor was Captain of the Canterlot Royal Guard and a unicorn. Her parents were unicorns and Twilight hated how they decorated the Manor. She was Twilight Sparkle and she was made of fire. Not-Shining Armor grinned, already fading away, “Remind me, sister, of what it means to be a big brother.” “I will,” Twilight whispered, “How do I wake up?” “Who is missing right now, sister?” Not-Shining Armor’s voice faintly asked, “Who did you trade for?” That’s right, she was missing someone. They were important. She had to get them back. Her entire world didn’t make sense. Her world… “Spike…” And the fire roared, vaporizing the ice in an instant. The inferno sealed her wounds and she steamed as she bared her teeth. She howled along with the flames that licked hungrily at her scales. Fury raged fiercely. The world shook as her Magic reacted in kind, surging and ebbing with the energy of a pent-up volcano. And finally, the Dream Eater made itself known, emerging behind the shadow of Canterlot Castle like a chastised puppy. “Release me.” The Dream Eater ran. Not in the traditional sense, no, of course not, never were things simple when it came to Twilight Sparkle. But the dragon was already familiar with its tricks and a single spell had the foundations of the castle crumbling. She easily took flight and watched Canterlot City slide off the mountain. She watched it all burn. “This wasn’t to plan,” Lady Rarity declared angrily, removing her scarf to drape it around Spike like a blanket, “That dragon is absolutely mad, I tell you. She has taken leave of her senses.” “I heard Mom scream,” Spike whispered, burying his face into Miss Fluttershy’s chest, “No one believed me.” That shut everyone up. “Ah should’ve been there,” Lady Applejack huffed, after a moment, “Mayor Mare said it was a good idea, but Ah said no.” Rolling her eyes, Rainbow Dash poked the large earth pony in the chest, “‘Ight, let’s wrap up this pity party. Only Pinkie Pie can make parties and she definitely didn’t make this one. Look, we can go around for hours about this and that. I say stuff it, it already happened and it’s in the past. We need to focus on the here and now and right now Spike is in need of medical care. We know where the castle is and the traps around it. We’ll regroup and come back.” “Ponyfeathers,” Pinkie Pie declared with a large smile, “I hate it when Rainbow Dash is right.” “I’m always right!” the griffon protested amid the huffing laughs of everyone else. Spike’s head buzzed and he was barely lucid, but he sensed the change in the air when they arrived back at camp. Someone, he thought it was Fluttershy, laid him down on a bed of leaves. It smelled like his mom. After a long moment, or in no time at all, there was movement near him. He spun, nearly slipping as he bared his flat teeth and snarled, puffing his chest as big as he could get it. A dragon bigger than Twilight laughed at his display, “Peace, young dragon. I mean no harm.” Spike openly gaped at the dragon’s white crisscrossing scars and blind eye. He reminded Spike of Canterlot Mountain, still standing strong despite all the wind, rain, and snow. For some reason, this dragon didn’t have wings. Morbidly, Spike wondered if someone had cut them off. “‘Like mother like child,’ I believe the saying goes.” The dragon smiled kindly at him and Spike flushed at his own rudeness. “I’m Spike Sparkle from House Sparkle, mighty dragon sir,” Spike squeaked. The dragon chuckled, “My, my. What an impressive title for one so young. Call me Don or Donnie, my name doesn’t translate well into Ponyish. You and your mother are quite brave.” “Everyone keeps saying that. And I’m not a dragon.” “I am not one for spreading falsities to make a being feel better about themself, child.” Don settled himself next to the leaf bed, “A being raised by a dragon ends up more dragon than anything they were before. Would you deny that, child?” Spike used to be a dragon. Somewhere, somehow, he had been changed. Could he still be a dragon? His mom sometimes stood up on two legs to walk around and she could fly. He tried to stand like that once in a while. He wasn’t very good at it and he always fell. Something about him not having a solid tail to act as a counterbalance, he wasn’t paying attention when his mom explained. He definitely couldn’t fly. He wished he could exhale fire. (“Breathing means inhaling, Spike. I don’t ‘breathe’ fire.”) “Dragons can look like anything, child. That is why we are called dragons.” Don blinked softly at him, his mouth stretching into a small smile despite the painful-looking band around his face. “Teach me then!” Spike declared boldly, “Teach me to be a dragon so I can save my mom.” “Foolish child,” Don cuffed him gently around his head, “You already know how to be a dragon. I am a dragon, and I have no wings. I am a dragon and I can’t breathe fire. I am a dragon and so much more. So are you, youngling. Young Twilight tells me you’re smart. You already know the answer.” Spike thought of the paper-covered corkboard and all the books that littered his room in the Golden Oaks Library. “Nightmare Moon isn’t real. Nobody is coming back during the Summer Sun Celebration.” “...the elder sister harnessed the most powerful magic known to ponydom: the Elements of Harmony…she defeated her younger sister, and banished her permanently…” “...six Elements of Harmony…Kindness, Laughter, Generosity, Honesty, and Loyalty. The sixth is a complete mystery…the last known location of the five elements was in…The Everfree Forest.” “Spike, it’s a fable. No one is coming back.” “...Queen Celestia, Head of Day Court, Head of Night Court…Bearer of Magic, Bearer of Loyalty, Bearer of Generosity, Bearer of Kindness, Bearer of Laughter, Bearer of Honesty.” “You already know the answer.” And Spike knew. Celestia gently tapped her horseshoe against the flat of her desk. Her student’s letter lay unfurled in front of her. The letter itself was rather lengthy and didn’t contain any useful information. Her student had this thing where she was capable of talking and talking about nothing for a truly astonishing amount of time. The most worrying tidbit of information to be gleaned was this so-called mentor her student had obtained. The Queen wasn’t truly concerned about it, as the dragon would always return to her rightful place at her hooves, but the simple fact she had gotten another mentor wasn’t the best thing. The last thing she needed was for her student’s attention to be diverted away from the primary goal. The letter did at least confirm that the Beast did take over her student, however brief it was. Her annoyance spiked at the reminder that she was currently missing a shin guard. It was surprising how much raw power the Beast had even without using Magic. Her enchanted armor had crumpled like parchment, something the alicorn didn’t know was possible. “Your Majesty,” Captain Armor said with a salute, “How may I be of service?” The Queen beckoned her Captain inside from where he lingered in the doorway. “At ease, my Captain. I simply wished to inform you that your sister is safe and sound of mind once more. She worries for your safety as well as your parents. I grant you the privilege of reading the personal letter she sent.” “Thank you, your Majesty.” And then under his breath, likely not meant for her ears, he muttered, “Of course, she’s worried about me. I don’t need the pity.” The unicorn lifted the parchment and skimmed it with the practiced motion of a pony who had gone through too much paperwork. He frowned when he gave it back, “Is she always this casual in her letters, your Majesty? Seems a tad unprofessional.” Celestia smiled wider, “Your sister has always been headstrong. She listens when it’s convenient. It drives me around the bend sometimes, but she’s a good student. If she weren’t a dragon, I’d say she would be brilliant enough to take my place as Canterlot Archmage. It does not bother me if she is professional or not.” “As your Majesty wishes.” “You are dismissed, Captain Armor. I trust you will be able to carry out your sister’s request.” “Absolutely,” he confirmed, looking as if he’d bitten into a lemon. When he left, the Queen settled back in her seat to think. “I’ll report to Canterlot as soon as Spike’s safety is assured.” Those words weren’t very worrying at the moment, but the alicorn knew if she let that connection grow and fester even further, it would be detrimental to her student’s destiny. The Element of Magic needed friends, not a damnable child. For seven years, Celestia watched her student dote on and play with the little experiment she was given. The dragon named it, called it hers, and took care of it like a pet. The experiment was, at its very core, still a dragon, a beastly thing. She could see how it was rubbing off on her student. Both of them growled like wild dogs with a temper to match, and both showed no signs of obedience or tamability.  She had thought when she presented the experiment to her student, her student would be excited and examine the thing. And she did, but instead of disposing of it like other materials, her student kept it. Just when she suspected her student would keep it until it died, her student failed not one, not two, but three tests in a row and her only excuse was that she was “taking care of Spike” - whatever that was supposed to mean. Her student was seventeen summers at the time and to the Queen’s shock, the dragon quite literally cleaned out her experiment room and gave it to the thing. That continued until the thing was a little bit older before her student started doing small projects in her living area again. What had Celestia done wrong? It was unheard of for any student studying any field to stop all research and fail to turn in big projects for over five years at a time. Sure, her student did send in research papers, completed by mostly going through books and the like, but never did her student continue with her physical research. And still, Twilight Sparkle held the best test scores in the history of Canterlot. She could be making history and becoming a living legend as a scholar, but the dragon absolutely refused to take on any major project. She had tried to take the experiment away last summer but had come upon quite a large problem. The experiment was listed as Heir to the Sparkle House if Captain Armor failed to produce any offspring by the time he was forty summers. No pony, not even the Queen could justify removing a House’s Regent Heir for no reason. Despite all of Celestia’s meticulous planning, she failed to actually lay a claim on the experiment before hoofing it over on a silver platter. But then again, what pony would think to claim an experiment that wasn’t a pony at all? Unfortunately for her, her student was not a true pony - not yet. She was sullied by the Beast and thus did not think clearly. It was but a simple setback. Queen Celestia sighed, pulling a stack of papers closer to her. She had duties to fulfill and a prisoner to watch over. Being Queen didn’t spare her of the most dreaded thing known to ponykind: paperwork. She set to work.