//------------------------------// // A Map and a Dragon Fang // Story: Ranger in Equestria // by Lady Umbra //------------------------------// At the Princess's request, Twilight, Tommy, and their friends made their way back to Ponyville. Currently, Tommy found himself assisting Big Mac with the apple harvest. Engaging in this type of labor brought Tommy great satisfaction. Such work demanded not only hard word but also unwavering dedication, reminiscent of the qualities required of a martial artist and defender of the earth. As ​Tommy approached the farmhouse, sweat dripping from his brow, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight before him. There stood ​Applejack, her strong and agile frame effortlessly tossing bales of hay onto the second floor with precision and grace. A sense of admiration filled Tommy's heart as he watched her dedicated efforts. Setting the cart aside, Tommy made his way towards Applejack, eager to lend a hand. The two friends exchanged greetings, their shared camaraderie evident in their warm smiles. "Need any help with those bales, Applejack?" Tommy offered, his voice filled with genuine eagerness. Applejack paused for a moment, appreciating Tommy's willingness to help. She glanced at the bales of hay, then turned to face Tommy. "I appreciate the offer, Tommy," she replied, her voice filled with gratitude, "but I've got this under control." With a confident flick of her hoof, she effortlessly threw another bale of hay. Tommy nodded, understanding her self-assurance. "​Big Mac finished the apple harvest about an hour ago," he explained, gesturing towards the cart. "I've completed my section of the trees, so I'm ready to lend a hand wherever it's needed." Applejack's eyes briefly flickered with a mix of surprise and appreciation before a warm smile adorned her face. "Well, shoot, ​Tommy. Since you've finished your section, I reckon we can call it a day," she exclaimed, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. Tommy turned to Applejack with eager anticipation. "How about heading over to ​Sugarcube Corner?" he suggested, his voice filled with enthusiasm. A bright spark lit up Applejack's eyes as she enthusiastically responded, throwing the last bale of hay with a flourish. "I could sure go for some of Pinkie's sweets," she exclaimed, her voice carrying a touch of excitement. After a long day of work in the field, ​Tommy decided to head inside to shower and change his clothes before leaving for ​Ponyville. As he made his way towards the front porch, ​Granny Smith's voice called out to him, interrupting his departure. "Good work in the field, young'un," Granny Smith said, slowly getting out of her rocking chair. "Not many folks work as hard as you, especially those who ain't family." Tommy nodded gratefully, acknowledging the old timer's kind words. "It's the least I could do since you let me stay here," he replied sincerely, grateful for the ​Smith family's hospitality. Curiosity sparked in Granny Smith's eyes as she looked around before retrieving a round tin from her pocket. She started to say something, but ​Applejack swiftly arrived, jumping onto the porch and swiping the tin from Granny's grasp. "The doctor told you no more tobacco, Granny!" Applejack scolded gently, a hint of concern in her voice. "You know it's not good for you." Granny Smith grumbled in frustration, sinking back into her rocking chair. "Dang it!" she muttered. "I've raised you three after your folks passed, and now I can't even have my little pleasures." Applejack pocketed the tin, determined to ensure her grandmother followed the doctor's orders. "I'm grateful for everything you've done, Granny," she said sincerely, "but I need to make sure you take care of yourself. Field work, your hard cider, and now tobacco... It's all for the best." "What's next? They already took one of my kidneys," she grumbled,  Sensing the need to give Applejack some space to address the situation, Tommy spoke up. "I'll head to Ponyville then," he offered, understanding the need for privacy. "You take your time; I'll catch up with you later." Applejack nodded appreciatively, grateful for Tommy's understanding. "Thanks, Tommy. I'll join you in Ponyville once I make sure Granny is settled." As ​Tommy left the expansive farm grounds and strolled through ​Ponyville, he could feel a sense of relaxation enveloping him. His mind was already filled with the anticipation of the sweet treats that awaited him at ​Sugarcube Corner. However, just as he was about to enter the delightful bakery, the door flung open, startling him. His eyes widened as he observed a flurry of activity. The ​Cutie Mark Crusaders, ​Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle, rushed out of the store donning bike helmets that were adorned with crudely painted cardboard. What caught Tommy's attention was their colorful attire, which seemed to bear a striking resemblance to that of Ranger form. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, unable to suppress his amusement at their imaginative play. With a light chuckle, Tommy entered Sugarcube Corner. As he looked around, he spotted Twilight Sparkle engaged in conversation with Pinkie Pie at the counter.  "Hey, guys," Tommy greeted, his voice filled with warmth, announcing his presence in the lively bakery. Pinkie Pie's face immediately lit up with excitement as she turned to face the ranger. "Hey, Tommy! Are you here for your usual?" she asked, her enthusiasm evident. "Actually, I'd love a slice of ​Apple Pie, if you have any," Tommy requested, his taste buds already anticipating the sweet and comforting flavors of Pinkie's signature creation. He made his way to one of the cozy tables and took a seat, ready to savor the delicious treat. Meanwhile, Tommy turned to Twilight Sparkle, hoping for some news from Princess Celestia. "Any word from Princess Celestia?" he inquired, a hint of curiosity in his voice. Twilight shook her head, a touch of disappointment evident in her expression. "Nothing yet," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of frustration. "I've informed Spike that I'll be here, so if Celestia sends a letter through him, he'll make sure to bring it here." A somber expression settled on Tommy's face as he solemnly acknowledged the reality of his situation. His thoughts turned to the shattered power coin, a symbol of the world he longed to return to. Sensing his melancholy, Twilight took a seat beside the human, her presence comforting. She placed a hoof gently on his arm, conveying both understanding and reassurance. "Tommy," she began, her voice soft and empathetic. "I understand your desire to go back to your world, but we must exercise patience. Princess Celestia has an immense task ahead of her, going through centuries' worth of records. It will undoubtedly take time." Tommy nodded, absorbing Twilight's words, knowing deep down that patience was indeed necessary. As difficult as it was to be separated from his own world, he recognized the importance of allowing Princess Celestia the necessary time to navigate through the vast archives of ​Equestria. Spike made a brisk entrance into Sugarcube Corner, the grip on his claws revealing a scroll adorned with Princess Celestia's signature seal. His gaze swiftly swept across the room, flittering past the patrons and ultimately settling on Twilight and Tommy amidst their tranquil complicity. The sudden appearance of the dragon commanded a silent intrigue from Tommy, his pulse quickening at the sheer implication of Spike's presence. The long-awaited message they had been anticipating was no doubt contained within that scroll. With a deliberate pace, marked by the significance of the dispatch he bore, Spike approached. "Twilight," he said, his tone laced with an unmistakable urgency yet preserving the decorum befitting the delivery of a message from royalty. "I've got something from Princess Celestia." As he handed over the scroll, his demeanor was a blend of solemnity and sincerity, appreciative of the potential impact its revelations might have on what lay ahead With a reverent touch, Twilight unfurled the scroll, her eyes briefly flitting over the elegant script before she began to read aloud, ensuring Tommy could take in every word. "My Faithful Student," she recited, her voice echoing the warmth and wisdom of Princess Celestia's written word. "After an extensive search through the archives, I have uncovered records detailing the mines we once utilized to extract those peculiar crystals. While it's unfortunate that the veins in Manehattan, Trottingham, Van Hoover, and Las Pegasus have been depleted, there remains a glimmer of hope. I have discovered that a mine in Rainbow Falls, albeit outdated in our records, may still house a reserve of these crystals. Enclosed with this letter, you will find an ancient map to guide you to this mine's location." Twilight's delivery of the missive imbued the room with a newfound sense of purpose, her voice steady yet filled with the excitement of potential discovery. Tommy leaned in closer, drawn by the unfolding adventure laid out before them by Celestia's thoughtful foresight. Twilight carefully extracted the map from the scroll, her eyes scanning the details of the rough parchment, when a postscript caught her attention. "P.S. Please tell Spike 'I'm Sorry' for what I'm going to send in the next five minutes." A look of concern flickered across her face as she turned to Spike. "Spike, when did you receive this letter?" Spike began to respond, "Four minutes ago—" His words abruptly halted as he clutched his stomach, a grimace of pain and discomfort crossing his features. An instant later, he reared back his head, releasing an enormous burp that sent a burst of brilliant green fire into the air. The flames danced and swirled in a mystical spectacle before condensing into a box, complete with a note adhered to its surface, leaving Twilight and the others in both anticipation and mild apprehension of what Princess Celestia deemed necessary to send with such urgency. Tommy gingerly placed the mysterious box on the table, concern still etched on his face as he turned to Spike.  "Are you alright?" he asked.  Despite clearly still catching his breath from the unexpected magical exertion, Spike managed to offer a fatigued yet reassuring thumbs up. With Spike's affirmation, Tommy redirected his attention to the box, his fingers reaching for the note that accompanied it, his curiosity piqued about its contents and the related urgency indicated by Celestia's apologetic postscript. As Tommy unfolded the note,  "If you entertain me enough, perhaps I will be interested in seeing some of your moves in private ;3" A noticeable redness crept up his cheeks, betraying his composure with a telltale blush. Sensing the shift in his demeanor, Twilight's curiosity was instantly piqued. "What did she say?" she inquired, leaning in closer with interest clearly written on her face. Fumbling for a moment, Tommy did his best to suppress his flustered state, quickly tucking the note out of sight into his pocket.  "She said that this is a reward for our courage in the battle against Chrysalis and her changelings," he responded swiftly, spinning a tale to divert attention from the note's true, flirtatious message. Upon opening the box, a magnificent sight unfolded before Tommy. Nestled within lay a sword of extraordinary craftsmanship, measuring an impressive five feet from the pommel to the tip of the blade, with three of those feet making up the blade alone. The sword boasted a handle designed in the likeness of a pearl white dragon, an elegant and fierce touch that spoke of both beauty and strength. Etched along the length of the blade were runes, cryptic in nature and unfamiliar to Tommy, yet they pulsed with an undeniable aura of magic. Even without a proficiency in detecting enchantments, Tommy could sense the latent power residing within the weapon, a testament to the sword's mystical origins and capabilities. It was clear that this was no ordinary armament; it was a blade of significant potency, one that likely held capabilities as mysterious and profound as the runes that adorned it. Twilight's expression shifted to one of intrigue, her horn glowing as she gently levitated the weapon for a closer examination. "Wait..." she murmured, enveloped in thought. A contemplative tap on her temple prefaced the flash of realization that danced across her features. Eyes sparkling with wonder, Twilight could barely contain her excitement. "This isn't just any weapon; it's the legendary Dragon Fang!" she exclaimed, reverence threading her words. She elaborated, each fact unfurling with the breathless thrill of discovery, "The legends speak of its creation; it's said to be forged from the fangs of ancient Dragon Lords." With utmost care, Twilight passed the legendary blade to Tommy, her tone dipping into one of awe. "This fabled weapon once belonged to the Dragon, Zephyrus Ord, the first and only dragon to have sworn fealty to the Princess." The legendary status of the Dragon Fang was palpable in her voice, an echo of history's reach through time to the present moment. Tommy carefully hefted the Dragon Fang, his touch cautious as if he were afraid of disturbing the very essence of the weapon. The runes shimmering in hues of red, green, and purple captivated him, hinting at the depth of magic that lay beyond his understanding. Securing the weapon in its sheath, he rose to his feet, a spark of determination igniting in his eyes. "So, Rainbow Falls?" he asked, the weight of their quest momentarily lightened by the grandeur of the blade. Twilight nodded, her own resolve mirrored in her stature as she too stood. "Let's not waste time. The sooner we retrieve the crystal, the sooner we can—send—you—home..." Her words trailed off, a bittersweet realization dawning upon her. In her fleeting moments of introspection, Twilight couldn't escape the warmth that Tommy's presence brought her. The thought of him brought a constant blush to her cheeks, a giddy sensation that she could not shake off. Yet amid the whirlwind of emotions and duty, a single, regretful notion echoed within her, a silent wish against the inevitable: 'I hope we don't find the crystal.' Within the foreboding confines of Rita's Moon Palace, a shadow loomed over the mystical portal—a window that revealed the unfolding quest far below. Lord Drakkon's lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he observed the progress of his unwitting pawns on the mortal plane. "They've finally pinpointed where to obtain the gem," he mused, his thoughts cloaked in a silent anticipation of the plans unfolding in his favor. The serenity of his contemplation was abruptly shattered by the cacophony of Rita Repulsa's wrathful cries. The sorceress stormed into the throne room, fury fueling her stride and frustration etched into every syllable she shrieked. "No! I was so close!" Her voice reverberated off the cold stone walls. Rita's magical scepter was gripped tightly in one hand, while the other pressed against her temple in a feeble attempt to alleviate the pounding in her skull. "Drakkon, how much longer must I endure the incompetence of Oliver's search for that crystal?" Rita's voice pierced the air, stopping mere feet from the stoic Lord Drakkon. "Endlessly watching these Rangers tear through my creations is giving me such a splitting headache!" Her grievances hung heavily in the room, a tapestry woven from her ceaseless desire for victory and her ever-growing impatience. A momentary silence took hold as Lord Drakkon addressed the tempestuous witch with a commanding presence. "Calm down, Repulsa. Our endeavor is not in vain. Oliver has located the Crystal," he informed with a tone that melded assurance with underlying malice. His laughter echoed, a harbinger of the chaos he intended to sow, his hand raised in a sinister salute to their impending triumph. With the grace of a practiced conspirator, Drakkon's fingers came together in a fateful snap—a decisive motion that signified the next phase of their dark plot. As the snap's reverberations mingled with the still air, a shape unfurled from the darkness that hugged the crevices of the throne room. The emerging figure, conjured from the cloak of shadows, stood poised to receive Drakkon's orders, a silent testament to their preparedness to intercept the Crystal and shatter the hope of their opponents by rending the mine asunder. Clad in a sleek black combat attire, the warrior moved with a viper's grace, his every motion a testament to his formidable agility. The suit, a caress of shadow against his skin, permitted him to glide with breathtaking swiftness and precision. Across the fabric, patterns whispered tales of a scorpion's armored shell, a reflection of the dread he inspired. Girded across his torso was a vestment as radiant as the sun—a yellow tabard emblazoned with the ominous insignia of a scorpion, the very embodiment of peril. This vivid mantle seemed almost spectral, cascading in a luminous wake that contrasted starkly with the dark mystery at his core. His hands were shielded by fingerless gloves, jet as the night, which promised both safety and tactile freedom. Forged of a material robust yet yielding, they were crafted to marry deft motion with resistance. Concealed within were mechanisms of an insidious nature, a promise of the lethal expertise he held at his disposal. His ensemble was anchored by boots, the product of darkened, toughened hide, their soles endowed with a design for steadfast traction even where footing would be denied to lesser men. As if in harmony, they matched the rest of his dark garments, adding a silent resonance to his mystic visage. The figure's voice, an echo of loyalty and respect, cut through the silence. "You summoned me, Master." With each step closer, the essence of dread that clung to him became more palpable, leaving little doubt of the fate awaiting those who would dare cross his path. Facing the imposing figure, Drakkon nodded at the warrior now bowing before him. "Scorpion," he addressed the ominous presence whose very name beckoned images of a creature as lethal as its sting. "I have a Job for you" "Your will is my command, Master," Scorpion intoned, his voice a blend of fealty and strength as he remained in a deferential kneel before the Ranger. Drakkon's directive was clear, his gaze as sharp as the task at hand. "Venture forth to Equestria," he commanded, his words slicing through the stillness. "Secure the Crystal before it falls into Oliver's grasp and ensure the mine's destruction." As his eyes shifted to the figure of Scorpina, a silent tension hung in the air. "Scorpina," Drakkon's voice beckoned, compelling her attention. At the sound of her name, a tremor of anticipation quivered through Scorpina. "At your service, Lord Drakkon," she responded, the edge of obedience sharpened with readiness. "Accompany him," Drakkon decreed, his instructions unwavering. "His fervor, though potent, may eclipse discretion, and his temper is not unknown to me." With a commanding gesture toward the swirling gateway, he concluded, "Claim the Crystal. And should fortune favor your encounter, bring an end to Tommy Oliver." ​Drakkon remained still, his gaze lingering on the swirling vortex as ​Scorpion and ​Scorpina disappeared into its depths, bound for ​Equestria. He turned, making his way back to the dark majesty of his throne. It was then that ​Goldar, emboldened by curiosity, approached the ruler with a hesitant stride. “Forgive my intrusion, Lord Drakkon,” Goldar began, his voice a mix of deference and intrigue. “Might I ask as to where you discovered such a formidable warrior?” A low, amused chuckle escaped Drakkon's lips, a sound that seemed to resonate with the very air of malevolence surrounding him. “Ah, Goldar, the warrior hails from a realm where there is a Bat in the Sun,” Drakkon said, his response cryptic yet laden with a sense of dark significance.