Chapter 25: The Sacrifice
But love, True love will not let you go without hope. Love will give you the strength to break the chains and continue on. Love will help you rise from the darkness and into the light as you raise a sword in one hand and a shield in the other once more ready to fight, to protect, despite all the pain. That is True love."
~Spikethed

Spike opened his eyes and he was back in the real world. The storms were still raging, his friends were still injured, and his love was still dead.

“Please. Stop!” choked Rainbow, who had managed to end up in the grasp of the dragon. “I don’t want to die!”

“Rainbow?” gasped Spike, immediately letting go of her, the rainbow pony falling onto the ground. “What happened?”

“You went berserk!” said Rainbow, panting heavily as she picked herself off the ground. “After you…after you killed Rarity, you went crazy; we thought we had lost you to him. Curator told us all to run, that there was nothing that could be done to save you, so he had everyone else head out off of the roof. He wanted to try and stop you himself.”

“I couldn’t let him do this by himself!” she grinned, spitting out a bit of blood. “I had to help, much to everyone’s dismay. I ain’t the element of loyalty cause I run away when there’s trouble.”

“Yeah…” she said quietly. “Everyone but me and Curator left, and he’s well…” She motioned her head towards the back of the dragon. “He did charge first, trying to get that necklace around your neck.”

Spike turned around to see Curator lying on the ground; he was covered with large deep gouges and scratches. Large chunks of skin were showing, revealing bone as the alicorn’s glassy yellow eyes shuddered. The pony struggled with every breath he took, life short for this world.

“Rainbow, get the others, he needs medical help NOW!” Spike ordered, dropping to Curator’s side. “Go!”

“Right,” nodded Rainbow, quickly dashing to the entrance from the roof and heading back inside.

“D-d-dragon?” stuttered Curator, his words frail and weak. “Is t-t-that you?”

“It’s me, Curator,” smiled Spike. “Conquest is gone, I watched him get torn apart.”

“He’s been through that before,” coughed the white alicorn. “I’ve seen it, lived through it. He’ll just pull himself back together…like he always does.”

The dragon shook his head, “Not this time… He’s gone from this world. For good.”

“Hate,” muttered Curator. “Anger, suffering, greed, lust, insanity…squirrels, among other things. Why, did you see something different?”

“I did,” said Spike. “I saw him, Curator. Conquest, when he was a child. I saw what his life was like. You know he wasn’t always this way. He was just a kid, a normal run of the mill pony.”

“Then what happened to him?” asked the alicorn. “What made him so…vile?”

“Ponies,” sighed Spike. “It was the vile nature of the ponies that made him the way he was. The bad side of ponies anyway. All he ever knew was the bad; he was never shown the good side of their nature, so he thought it was non-existent. He was incapable of compassion and forgiveness because he was never shown it. He had lived a terrible life, so it was inevitable that he would become such a monster. His hate was undying, letting him push through such pain and torment. He called himself crazy but he always knew what he was doing. It’s a really long story, I’ll tell you when you’re not on the verge of dying.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t think I did,” said Spike. “When I forgave him, he wasn’t mentally able to take it, he was too far lost. He needed his hatred to survive, even if it meant his death. When I gave him a hug, he got mad. So he did whatever he could do to keep his hatred flowing. I saw every single pony, griffon, dragon, anything that he had killed. They all turned on him, tore him apart limb from limb in silence. Like I said, I didn’t defeat him. He did it himself.”

“Yeah,” said Spike, cutting the pony off. “She’s fine, nothing but a few scrapes here and there. Wings still crippled as hell.”

“Good,” smiled Curator. “I am glad that she is safe. She was a very good fighter, despite her injuries. Tried to save me before you almost ripped me in half.”

“Not your fault, it was his…” Curator mumbled. “Speaking of him, come closer…”

Spike leaned closer to the fallen pony. Curator was in really bad shape, his blood was starting to flow out less and less, his own white coat growing dim and pale, his mane losing his colour, and his eyes looked pale.

“Put this on…” he whispered, reaching under his body and levitating the strange amulet from underneath. “If he is even remotely alive in there, this will flesh him out.”

“What is this anyway?” asked the dragon, staring at the floating amulet. “It’s was never truly explained to me.”

“No one really knows what it is, not even me,” said Curator. “All I know is that those with a pure heart can unlock its power when it’s needed the most, and those who are evil burn at the touch of it. It is a shield, not a sword; it will never take a life, only save them. Wear it, so I may see if any evil still lingers in your body.

“Okay,” said Spike, grabbing the golden chain of the necklace. Almost at the touch of the metal, the heart shaped jewel illuminated with a bright and powerful white light. The dragon felt a pain in his stomach, burning with the passion of a thousand fires. He felt the pain crawl up his throat as he vomited out a river of black sludge. There was a lump in his throat that pressed past the lips of his mouth, as a blob of black fell to the ground.

“Just as I feared…” sighed Curator, as he painfully got up from the ground, wobbling as he leaned on the dragon for support. “He still lives.”

“What?!” gasped Spike, looking down at the puddle of dark liquid he had barfed up. Laying in the pool of filth, was a small dark colt curled up in a ball, slowly whimpering and giggling to himself in illiterate ramblings. “But I thought—“

“Like you said, his mind was incapable of such forgiveness. But his body still remains,” said Curator, limping up to the colt. “You still have done me a great service. You managed to shatter the mind of a mad mare, or stallion in this case.”

“He may be alive, but he a shadow of his former self. His magic and strength are gone, but I sense he is slowly rebuilding it. If we are to end this, it must be done now.”

The white alicorn looked up into the sky. “I think it is time to end the madness,” he said. “The sun seems like a fitting end for us.”

“Then as long as I am alive, he will keep coming back,” he said. “I have seen everything he has done, every life he has taken, and I was the puppet he used to do it with. I was his slave for thousands of years, I can never forgive what he has done to me and to others, and it is that hate that keeps him breathing at this moment.”

“It has to be this way, Spike,” the white stallion said, levitating the small gibbering colt onto his back. “The sun is powerful enough to make sure that our bodies are completely incinerated, and with my anger put to rest, he will not likely come back.”

“Tell my sisters I love them, and that I’m sorry for all I have done,” he said before taking off, using every last bit of energy he had left to flap his wings. “Especially Luna.”

Spike watched in shocked awe as he flew, growing farther and farther away from him. Part of him wanted to go after Curator, to drag him down and try to talk some sense into him, but he knew he couldn’t. Conquest was too dangerous to be kept alive. He and Curator knew this more than anyone. This was a mercy, for both of the alicorns, and Curator was probably too proud to admit it. This was just as much for him that it was for Conquest. He wanted to die as Curator, the free and righteous pony that had defended Equestria, defeated evil, and won back the ponies freedom from a crueler dragon race.

“Be at peace, both of you,” said Spike, as he watched the majestic white alicorn charge strait into the sun. There was a fiery flash of light as Curator and Conquest were engulfed in the flames. Spike had to avert his eyes to prevent from going blind. When he looked back up to the sky, they were both gone, disintegrated from this plane of existence.

It took over five thousand years, countless innocents, two wars, the kindness of a dragon and the sacrifice of a noble alicorn, but it was finally over.

The sudden reality of the situation hit Spike like a wrecking ball. “RARITY!” he cried. He felt ashamed that he had almost forgotten his love. How could he have forgotten such an important thing!?

He rushed over to her heartless and cold body; her fur was soaked from blood loss and rainwater. Her mascara had run down her closed, soft eyes, and of her frozen cheeks. Her mane was in tangles, dyed with the red of her own blood. She was dead, gone without her heart for goddess knows how long.

“No…” He shook his head, praying for this to be another bad dream. “Nonononononononono! Please!” he begged, trying his best to close the wound. “Don’t die! I can’t live without you! This isn’t how it ends! It can’t be!”

“There has to be something I can do!” he cried, “I’d give anything to—“

“Spike, over here!” called Rainbow as she lead the group of ponies and dragons. Celestia and Luna’s wounds had healed up a bit, their faces less gashed and bloody. Twilight had found her broken off horn and had it wrapped back on. It still looked fragile but it seemed like it would reattach with time. Applejack, Fluttershy, and Pinkie were all bandaged up, same for the quintet of dragons. Forge had what looked like a makeshift peg leg, and was still supporting himself with a crutch. They all looked fine, recovering from terrible injuries and psychological trauma, but fine.

“Spike, where’s Curator?” asked Luna, looking around the roof in a panic. “I can’t see him anywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” grunted Spike, hardly paying attention to the mare. “But he’s gone.”

Everypony gasped in shock, but none more than Luna. The dark princess of the night fell down to her knees, her face frozen with a look of shock, sadness, and denial. Her breaths quickened and her heart raced as she broke out a single tear. It shined and sparkled in the dim afternoon glow of the sun that had been her love’s resting place. “No…” she whimpered. “Not after all this. I thought we were going to be happy together at last.”

“Sister, I am truly sorry…” Celestia said, trying to comfort her distress sibling. “I can only imagine what you’re feeling.”

The dark mare said nothing as she dug her face into her hooves, crying. “It’s not fair!” she wailed. “Why did he have to die?!”

“He died a hero, Luna,” said Spike, still doing whatever he could to revive Rarity. “He wanted me to tell you that he loved you both, and that he was sorry, Luna, for everything.”

“He…he said that?” she whispered, lifting her head up from her hooves. “He said that he loved me?”

“With all of his heart… HEART!!” gasped Spike, as he quickly scrambled over to Rarity’s side again. “That’s what she needs! A new heart!”

“Oh dear,” worried Twilight. “Spike, I’m sorry, but she’s gone. A new heart won’t save her now.”

“Maybe not a pony’s heart…” the drake said, eyeing his chest. “But maybe a dragon’s.”

“Spike…” sighed Forge, pushing his way past the rest of the group. “I know what you are thinking and I have to tell you that it too risky. I mean, she’s a pony! No dragon has ever tried to revive anything else but another dragon with this procedure, and even if it is possible, we still don’t know if it will work!”

“What are you going to do, Spike?” barked Forge, grabbing the purple drake by the shoulders. “Tear out half your heart? And what if she doesn’t pull through? Then you’ll end up like me, an old cripple who’s counting the days until what’s left of your heart gives out!”

“Don’t give me that tragic hero bull crap!” snarled the crippled red drake. “I know that you think that what you’re doing is noble, and it is. But I refuse to sit here and let you throw away your life like I did!”

“So that’s what you think this is?” frowned Spike. “Love stricken idiot? Who the hell are you to say what I can and can’t do?!”

“I’m trying to help you prevent the same mistake that I made,” said Forge. “You have other ponies that care about you to. What about your friends, Spike?” he asked, motioning to all the others. “Look at them, they all care about you Spike. Can you do that to them?” The red smith dragon let go of Spike and backed off. “If you think you can hurt all of these ponies and dragons, then go ahead, rip your damn heart out!”

Spike growled at all of it as he flexed his claws in his hand. There was still only one selfish thought running through his head. “Fine!” he finally said, bowing his head in defeat. He turned back to Rarity, his one and only love in this world. He didn’t have to cut his heart in half for it to be broken. The sight of her was sharper than any knife in the world. “I’m sorry…” he snivelled, “I wasn’t strong enough. This is all my fault.”

The purple drake’s head turned slightly, following the sound of the strained voice. “Who said that?”

“Oh… don’t mind me… just dying slowly… just like you asked,” coughed Slitilda. The bronze dragoness had somehow managed to survive. She was sitting in a pile of her own blood and flesh, leaning on a railing for support as both of her claws tried to desperately close the gaping wound in her stomach, but it was proving ineffective. “Thanks for helping me…when you all ran away and stuff…” she droned. “Love bleeding to death…”

“Slitilda? You’re still alive?” gasped Spike, getting up and running to her side.

“Nice to see you too…” snickered Slitilda, smiling weakly at the purple drake that had rushed by her side. “Oh, and thanks for killing me…”

“Listen, I’m sorry,” apologized Spike, examining her wounds. “Look, it’s going to be okay, we can get you to help, we’ll get a medical team up here, we can save you.”

The dragoness shook her head feebly. “Not going to happen, I don’t deserve it… I’m just a bad dragon…”

“Yes… yes I am, Spike,” she hacked, a mix of saliva and blood coming out. “Do you know why I even came here with the rest of the dragons?”

“I… I came here…” she looked past Spike to Rarity’s dead body, “I came here…to kill Rarity.”

“I wanted…to be with you Spike,” she said. “More than anything else in the world. I was ready to kill her if I couldn’t….couldn’t have you,” she coughed again; they were getting worse. “But then I saw how you tried to save her…what you were willing to give up…your own life, just to save her… Your…Rarity.”

“Shhhhh,” hummed Slitilda, “You don’t have to explain anymore. I understand now,” she weakly took his claw in her own. “Love is more than hugs, cuddles and screwing each other. True love is the willingness to give everything, to sacrifice it all if you had to for your special someone, because you can’t stand to see them miserable.” She placed his claw over her chest, smiling as she pressed harder. “Take it.”

“You can’t save me,” strained the dragoness. “I’m dead, Spike. And I want to do something good with my last breath, so take the whole heart, she’ll have a better chance this way.” She stared lovingly into Spike’s startling green eyes.

“Think of it this way,” she smiled. “Now a small piece of me can always be with you.”

“I…don’t know what to say…” Spike said, staring back into the bronze dragons eyes, watching as the life was slowly trickling away from them.

“Then don’t say anything,” she said, wrapping her other arm around the dragon’s neck and pulling him in for a last kiss.

Spike didn’t fight back, there was no point in doing so. He tasted the bittersweet flavour of blood and brimstone on her scaly lips. She stilled had that smoky flavour in her mouth, the musky aroma that only a dragon could love. His heart wrenched as Slitilda slipped away from him, the lips of her mouth curled up.

“Don’t…don’t let her die…” whispered Slitidla, as she started to fade away. “I…love……….” Her grasp around the dragon’s claw grew limp as it fell down by her side. “…You.”

Spike watched as her eyes started to roll up her head. He brushed fingers down her face, closing her eyes forever. But he would mourn later. Precious time was lost each second as he quickly flicked open one of his claws, and gently carved it into Slitidla’s flesh. It was a simple incision, a small ‘X’ over her heart. He gently opened the folds to reveal Slitilda’s still beating heart. He looked at the golden organ for a moment, before carefully reaching into the hole, and grabbing the heart.

The bronze dragon only grunted as Spike remove her heart, the rest of her life slipping away within the moments. Spike held the precious dragon’s heart with both claws as he walked to Rarity. This was his one and only chance to save her, if this didn’t work… He’d rather not think of that at the moment.

Everypony watched with sympathy as Spike made the slow walk to the dead mare. The storm outside had started to calm down, as with the rest of the world as Conquest’s influence faded, but the marks he made would never be forgotten.

The rain was like a drizzle, a similar shower like the night when he had first proclaimed his love for Rarity, the one and only mare he would ever love. His dream, his fiancé, his everything. Life would have no purpose without her in it.

The drake bent next to Rarity’s body, still motionless as he cleared the hole in her chest, making sure that the large dragon’s heart would fit. With every care, Spike lowered the heart into her body. He watched with amazement at how fast the heart reconnected to Rarity’s existing arteries and veins, still beating weakly, and healing even slower. The dragon place his middle finger and his ring finger together against his lips, and blew a gentle green flame. The embers lingered on his fingertips as he placed the two fingers down on the open wound, using the other hand to press the flesh of the hole together. The wound cauterized quickly in the shape of his two fingers, a heart.

A tear fell from the dragon’s face. “I…” He didn’t want to finish his sentence as he looked at his love. Rarity looked so peaceful.

He picked up the magnificent unicorn in his hands, her body was still very cold. So very dead and cold.

He pressed his lips against hers. They were freezing at the touch but he didn’t care. They were the lips that he wanted to kiss forever, the lips that tasted better than all of the gems and cakes in Equestria, the lips that he wished that he would never have to part with.

For the Ones we Love

by FlimFlamBros.

The Sacrifice