“How is that possible?” Twilight asked the ancient, shocked to hear of her assistant's past. “You said that was two centuries ago.”
“Yes indeed,” Rarity said, holding the young Spike in question close. “Our little Spikey Wikey is still just a baby dragon, not but a few years of age.”
Serilex nodded his head slowly, before explaining. “Dragon eggs take some time to hatch. Years in fact, if the proper conditions aren't met. But the egg that is now the dragon you know was very special. Many years will pass before the egg is finally ready to hatch, while the magical energies of the world flow through him. It was the same for those few who were before him as well.”
“So... this is where I came from,” Spike thought aloud, astonished by the revelation.
“That is right,” Serilex said, “you were among us for for some time before I entrusted you to Celestia. Seeing you now, shows me the care she has given you, making me know I wasn't wrong in my decision.” A warm smile crept onto the ancient's face as he eyed the purple dragon. “We had named you Talyan that day. It's of the oldest words in the most ancient of our tongues meaning, the revered one, a title that's the closest we dragons have to express those who are loved greatly by others. Of course, I knew your princess would name you something different, more appropriate for being amongst her kind. I must say, I think it's a wonderful name, Spike.”
“Talyan... huh...” Spike murmured, thinking on the name. Truthfully, he preferred Spike a lot more.
Seeing the small dragon about to explode with the overabundance of new information he was being fed, Serilex stood from his seat on the chamber floor and regarded the group. “Now, I am sure none of you wish to hear the stories of an old dragon any longer. Go, feel free to explore the sanctuary to your heart's content. I'm certain you will find something of interest to each of you.”
The ponies all nodded, moving from their spots to trot out of the chamber. Riding atop Twilight's back, Spike turned to look at the magical ancient as he moved his gaze toward the old paintings that clung to the walls.
It didn't take long for the five ponies to find something to preoccupy themselves with.
Rainbow Dash was quick in locating a flying dragon, his attention focused on returning a stack of books to the highest shelves in the library.“Hey,” she said, gaining the dragon's gaze, “what kind of flying techniques do dragons have?”
The dragon said nothing at first, eying the outsider for several moments. “Flying... techniques?” the dragon responded, tilting his head at the strange creature's question.
The pegasus frowned for a moment, not sure if the dragon was dense or just misunderstanding her. “Like any cool moves when you're flying through the air being dragons and all.”
The dragon looked at her with a blank stare. “What do you mean by 'cool'? We dragons prefer to fly in warm temperatures, but you get used to the cold out here.” Rainbow Dash deadpanned as she brought her forehoof to her face.
Rarity, being without wings, patrolled the expanding library on hoof, her discerning gaze looking at every detail for a clue to what she sought.
“Rarity,” Applejack, being at the unicorn's side, said, “what are ya doin'?”
“Silence please, Applejack,” the fashionista responded. “I'm trying to concentrate.”
The farm pony examined the part of the library they were in, seeing nothing different than the rest of it. “Concentrate for what?”
“I'm trying to pick up on the gem hoard here,” Rarity replied, keeping her voice down so wandering ears would not hear. “Do you remember that fabulous assortment of gems within the temple? Then just imagine what kind of gems they must have here.” A fanciful moan escaped her as her mind worked out the image in her head. “Oh, I feel weak in the legs just thinking about it.” Applejack simply rolled her eyes as she continued to follow her friend, having nothing better to do, much to her displeasure.
Another of the pony visitors was busy shadowing a certain wingless dragon as he was busy looking for a certain illusion spell.
The dragon's gaze was locked onto the book he currently had, scanning it for any mention of what he was seeking. But, his gaze left the pages as he thought he heard something. Looking out at his surroundings, he saw nothing, not another soul nearby. To him, it sounded as though he had heard giggling, seemingly coming from nowhere, and everywhere.
Dismissing it, the dragon closed his book and put it away, moving his grasp toward another book that looked much more promising. Pulling the book from the shelf, the poor dragon was ill prepared for what would happen next.
“Surprise!” shouted a certain pink pony, appearing from the empty space where the old tome used to rest.
“Ah!” the dragon yelped, a mass of confetti and streamers being thrown at him. A burst of flame spewed from the startled dragon involuntarily, nearly turning the entire bookcase into a bonfire.
His heart pounding, the dragon looked frantically about for the pink pony, only to find that she had mysteriously vanished along with every bit of decorative paper she had brought. But again, the dragon nearly jumped from his scales as he heard the high-pitched voice of the creature shouting once more, sounding a short distance away in another section of the library. The voice was quickly followed by the startled shriek of another unsuspecting dragon.
“Which one which one,” Twilight muttered to herself. Being the scholar that she was, the unicorn was bursting with excitement as she trotted by the vast collection of tomes that the dragons had. The young scholar suddenly halted on the spot as she saw an impressively large tome with a gold and silver spine.
“Oh, yes yes yes, you'll do wonderfully,” she said happily, the old tome practically calling out to her. Even though the tome could easily turn her into a pancake, she wasted no time for caution as she used her magic to pry it from the shelf.
A massive grin stretched from ear to ear on her face as she gazed down at the book. Her mind raced with all the wondrous spells that the magical dragons had managed to create, and her excitement filled to bursting with the idea of adapting them for unicorn use.
Her breathing stopped as she slowly opened the book, preparing herself to take in the fascinating knowledge that dragons possessed. Then, as she looked upon the very first page, her grin deflated as her excitement came to a distasteful, crashing halt.
The tome did in fact teach her something, that writing of dragons was much different than that of her own kind, making reading the tome all but impossible for her. Twilight huffed angrily as she sat down in front of the tome, unenthusiastically flipping through the pages, trying to see if it had any spells that used illustrations instead.
While the ponies enjoyed themselves, Spike found himself slowly walking through the towering bookcases. Much was on his mind, what he had learned about himself, what he had learned about dragons in general, as well as what he learned on the things he should have already known.
Stopping at the center of the bookcase he was currently at, Spike looked at the tome before him with a curious inclination. The tome itself was several feet above the ground, making the idea of retrieving it daunting. But the young dragon wasn't easily deterred by the simple limitation of size.
With the use of his claws, the young assistant pressed his hands against the tomes and slowly climbed partway up. Pulling himself up at the middle of the tome, Spike's grip tightened around the very top of the spine. Placing his feet firmly against the bottom of it, he kicked off with all of his might. Though being as little as he was, there wasn't much might for him to give. Not giving up however, he began swinging back and forth, pushing off of the tome every time he came toward it.
After several tugs on the top, the tome began to slide downward. With one more hard kick, the tome was fully dislodged from the shelf and hit the ground with a loud thud. Spike fell down onto his rear and smiled at his accomplishment, as well as feel a hint of joy for not causing the heavy book to fall on him.
Leaning over the tome, the assistant began to turn its thick pages, the texture of them reminded him of a certain tome he had seen before, deep within the Canterlot Archives.
What surprised the dragon most of all, was what was written inside. He didn't know exactly what it was, but the writing that the dragons used was far different from that of ponykind. Even still, what became a shock to him was the fact that he could actually read it. Nothing about it he could truly explain, but as he looked upon the strange writing, he slowly began to understand the words that were in front of him, like an innate ability to read the literature of his kind. It allowed him to see what he had pulled from the shelf, it was a book of spells.
Many different spells were written inside, many of which Spike couldn't even comprehend. The difficulty of them ranged from the work of a master to that of a novice without any real organization to them.
“Hm,” the infant dragon murmured as he picked a spell at random, “'Claw Key,' opens any lock.” It seemed easy enough and sounded interesting to him, especially as he thought on all of the mischief he could get into with such an ability.
Scanning through the spell, Spike stood up developed a hardened gaze of determination. The purple dragon stood still for several moments, feeling the fire that burned inside of himself. Taking several deep breaths, he could feel that fire intensifying with the rise and fall of his breathing. Then, with his mind focused on the spell he wanted to create, he took a deep intake of air and breathed into his outstretched hand.
A small, dark grey sliver of fire trailed from his mouth and wrapped around his claws. Spike's lips were spread wide in his elated smile, his heart racing at the spell. That was until the fire immediately went out, disappearing without so much as a crackle.
The dragon huffed stubbornly at the display. Not allowing himself to be bested by his own flame, he tried once again. Accomplishing in setting his own hand on fire for only a few moments before it suddenly went out. After several more attempts, he was met with an equal number of failures as he was unable to keep the flame going.
His annoyance and impatience toward his own failures quickly turned him away from the spell. Delving deeper into what the tome held, the pages were turned and the names of the spells were skimmed through, passing under the gaze of the dragon.
The pages stopped turning once again as one particular spell caught his eye, as it was a spell he had seen before. 'Memory Mirror,' a spell that didn't require a great deal of experience compared to the others.
Examining the page for a few moments, Spike again stood up tall and took several deep breaths. Feeling the warmth inside of himself growing, the little dragon concentrated to the fullest of his ability before he took a deep intake of air, then released.
A small ball of silver flame blew out from his tiny maw. It slowly hovered through the air before stopping in front of its creator. The ball then expanded and formed a into a circular shape, similar to that of Serilex's own. It was much smaller than that of the ancient dragon, the blaze supporting it twitched and flickered violently, like the dwindling flame of a candle caught in a windstorm.
Images began to form within the smooth center of the surface. They were somewhat distorted, brought on by the inexperienced creature who brought them into fruition, but Spike could see the event transpiring clearly enough.
It was himself, younger only by a few months, dragging his feet across a tiled floor. The purple dragon held a look of begrudged acceptance, unhappy about being forced to stay within Canterlot Castle for the night. The reason was made clear as the tapping of heavy raindrops could be heard against the windows of the bedchamber.
A yawn stretched the dragon's mouth wide, leaving him even more drowsy than before. Though he was reluctant to sleep in the castle, risking the possibility of missing out on Twilight having another sleepover with Rarity, his young body made it impossible for him to go any further, he was about to collapse.
Luckily, a baby dragon sized basket laid on the floor before him, complete with a soft pillow and cozy blanket. Even in his tired state, Spike could recognize his old bed. The same one he slept in in his years living in Canterlot. With a satisfied smile, the baby dragon climbed into the bed, pulled the blanket over himself and sank into the comforting embrace.
Spike's mind slowly began to drift away, dancing atop the line between the waking world and dreamland. Too far gone, it didn't register to the dragon as the large, double doors making up the entrance of the bedchamber opened to a golden glow.
Princess Celestia walked into her chambers, her gaze set to look out the windows as she passed them, gazing into the storm as it did what it was created to do. The princess stopped as she came to the small basket, a warm smile appearing on her lips as she eyed the half-conscious Spike. Her gaze continued on him as her horn began to glow. The golden hue formed around it was matched by another as the magical aura grabbed onto the small blanket of the basket bed and wrapped itself around the dragon tighter, tucking him in. Then, the princess leaned her head down and kissed the dragon's scaled cheek.
“Sweet dreams, my little dragon,” Celestia whispered soothingly, watching as the young assistant shifted slightly in his sleep, his expression frozen in a blissful peace.
The images within the silvery flames then faded and disappeared entirely. It was followed by the flames dieing out, unable to keep the spell for a single moment longer. But Spike didn't need to see anymore.
Staring down at the floor, the young dragon pondered what he had seen. Too lost in thought, he jumped on the spot in a startled fright as he heard a voice just behind him.
“Still full of surprise, young one.” It was Serilex, looking down at the young dragon as he laid down on the floor beside him. “You know, she truly does care for you.”
Spike stayed silent, his mind running a mile a minute. It felt odd to say it to himself, but he couldn't ever think of a time where he thought of what the princess meant to him, even as he was raised under the kind gaze of the ruler. Twilight was always like an older sibling to him, now he wondered how Celestia meant something more to him as well.
“Yeah...” Spike murmured, “I guess she does.”
The dragon ancient frowned as he examined the young assistant, looking bothered by something that couldn't be placed. “Is something wrong, Spike?” he asked. “Are you not happy with what you have found here?”
“Of course,” Spike said quickly, “I've seen and learned so much, far more than what I actually expected, but...” The little dragon sighed as he looked up to meet the ancient's eyes. “I always wondered what made me different from other dragons, their aggressive and brutish actions. I figured it was because I grew up around ponies, but now it seems like I'm only different because I was born wingless. I guess I just thought... that there was more to a dragon's actions than just how they were born.”
Serilex paused for a moment, thinking on what to say to the downtrodden dragon. “Spike, do you know the story of why these lands are locked in an everlasting storm?”
The assistant nodded. “Yeah, spirits came and froze it because the three pony tribes never got along.”
“Well, yes, that's what the story says,” Serilex said, “but there is more to it than what is known by most.” There was a quick silence as the ancient's expression turned saddened for a moment. “The so called spirits were actually brought here by a powerful spell, created by enemies of the ponies who wanted to see them destroyed.”
Spike was surprised by the response. “But... who would do something like that?”
“A group of flightless,” the ancient replied, a sigh escaping with the reply as he shook his head shamefully. “They came here to learn of what they were, just as all the others before them. But eventually, after training themselves and honing their abilities, they left. I realized their intentions too late, they created the spell and nearly destroyed the pony race.”
“Why would they do that,” Spike asked, appalled by the idea of it.
“They saw their power as a way to control the other races, ideals similar to that of Doomaught. Though I was able to stop them, and thankfully, the ponies ended the spell before it spread further, these lands were lost to the snow.”
Spike was shocked by the explanation, having no idea that the story of Equestria's founding was more than what most knew. “So, I guess, even wingless dragons can be evil.”
“Yes,” the ancient nodded. “There is not a race in existence that is predictable in what is born good and evil. You yourself could have turned out just as dark and twisted as Doomaught, but you didn't.” The magical ancient lifted a claw and pointed toward the purple dragon. “You are what makes you the kindhearted dragon that you are, never forget that.”
“Hm,” Spike murmured as he thought on what the ancient had said. As the moments passed, he looked up at the old dragon with a smile, his doubts and fears having been put to rest.
Matching the smile, Serilex brought his tail toward the baby dragon, who hesitantly climbed on top of it. “Let's go,” the ancient said, “I can show you more of your ancestry.” Lifting his tail toward his back, Spike slid from the tail and onto the scaled back, grabbing a hold of one of the large spines to keep his balance atop the ancient.
Spike beamed happily at the great height he was lifted to while the old dragon walked through the maze of bookcases. Though his own small size prevented him from sitting down comfortably like he could when riding a pony, it was an amazing experience nonetheless, as long as he remembered to keep his grip on the spine.
Though the sights of his new height was wonderful to see, the young dragon found himself staring at something odd about the ancient's appearance. There was a spot on his neck where the scales seemed out of place. For the most part the were noticeably crooked, holding a faded color compared to the rest of his body, as well as appearing as if they were worn down terribly. The oddity in the spot was increased as Spike noticed small cuts on the soft underside of the front of his neck, where the scales didn't cover.
“What happened there?” Spike asked, without thinking as to what the question might mean to the ancient.
Serilex noticed that the young dragon was mentioning his neck and stopped suddenly. An awkward pause occurred quickly as he just stood there in silence. After a few moments passed by in a dreadfully slow manner, the ancient continued his walk, but doing so at a much slower pace.
“Scars of old times,” Serilex replied, his tone filled with his indifferent demeanor, but almost sounding like it was forced.
“Scars? From what?” Spike pressed, his curiosity outweighing his manners.
“It's where a collar was once placed,” the ancient answered. Turning his head, he caught the dragon riding his back looking at him with a face filled with shock and confusion, forcing him to elaborate. “Long ago, when we ancients controlled the world alone, it was Doomaught who ruled over us, with the other ancients either fearing his power or sharing in his savagery. With my... obvious differences to them, Doomaught thought it fitting to claim ownership of me. So he had me captured and chained in his domain. I was just a pet to him, not even worthy as a servant like he treated the others.”
“My gosh,” Spike whispered, horrified.
“Yes,” Serillex murmured, his tone turning dark as he began to feel old wounds. “It was actually during my enslavement when I learned of my abilities. When I honed my talents into actual use, I managed to free myself.” A small chuckle escaped the dragon. “Ah, I remember the look on his face as I displayed what I was capable of. The other ancients saw it as well, realizing that Doomaught wasn't as strong as they first thought, many left his side that day and it started the division of the dragonkind. He felt fear for the first time that day as well, the same fear that brings him to hate wingless dragons more so than any other creature.”
“Wow, I... I'm sorry,” the little dragon responded, unsure of what else he could really say.
A soft breath of amusement came from the ancient. “No harm is ever done from a little curiosity. Yours actually makes me see how much you take after your-” Serilex was stopped as he saw a familiar, bronze scaled dragon flying frantically toward them.
Moruzund flew in an erratic pattern, nearly crashing into the towering bookcases as he came into the library. Reaching the ground before the ancient, the dragon's claws cracked the stone around him with the speed he landed with. Moruzund said nothing however, only able to stand on his fours legs for a few moments before he collapsed onto the floor, his bronze scales turning red from the deep cuts that were across his body.