He didn’t have any choice. He had to go back. Some unknown impetus inside him told him to go, to go see the fate of his people. It wasn’t that difficult; draconequi were naturally built for the water, and his magic meant that breathing wasn’t a problem.
It was only a few hours after the disaster. Fish still nibbled on fresh bread left outside by the city’s late bakers. His returning to the city was punishable by death, but he doubted that law enforcement was their main concern. He didn’t even have to think where he would go first. Passing by the abandoned banks, unguarded coffers still filled with untarnished gold (he never really saw the point of currency), he headed straight toward the city’s massive Library.
The Great Library of Illyrium was one of the city’s main highlights, a mighty palace of white marble upon the pinnacle of the city, trimmed with golden statues of the great draconequus philosophers. Any normal library would have been flooded by such an apocalypse, but as the Illyrian library once served as a military stronghold, it had taken several precautions. The elders had obviously been prepared, as every window had been shut, and the great doors of solid iron had been sealed, as if to preserve its contents for him alone. He seriously doubted it.He took a deep breath (or as best as he could underwater), and walked straight through the solid metal, surrounded by a grey aura.
It was exactly how he remembered it, save for the dozens of lifeless granite figures transfixed in their poses, and the solid blue-green visible through the palatial skylights. He quickly set to his work. There was no time to admire the vast fresco, or the golden chandeliers, or to mourn his fallen countrymen. Those skylights wouldn’t hold forever.
To be only able to save a few books among thousands was a travesty to him. The Library represented a great cultural achievement, the collection of thousands of years of draconequian philosophy, literature, and history.
He started frantically grabbing books; whatever he could find on draconequus history, magic, and the Elements of Harmony. He heard a crack, and a small stream of water began to trickle through a small hole in the glass. Looking around, he found an empty crate, and dumped what he could find in it. He ran for the door, but he soon discovered he couldn’t walk through with the crate. Giving a heavy sigh, he constricted the container with his serpentine tail, flew up, and burst through the ceiling.
Thousands of litres of salt water rushed over his face, and the fracture spread across the glass, until a waterfall spilled down, destroying millions of pages and washing away great paintings hundreds of years old. He was too busy rushing towards the surface to notice the obliteration of his race’s entire culture.
He returned to the cave in which he had made his home. Opening the crate, he found the books a bit waterlogged, but still legible. He quickly prepared a fire, and set about dehumidifying his plunder. For the first time, he saw what he had collected. A History of the Draconequus. Chaotic and Dark Magical Theory. The Fall of the Crystal Empire. The Six Against Draconium. Canterlot: A History.
After the volumes had dried, he started with Canterlot: A History. He skipped all the boring parts about aristocratic feuds, galas, and politics. He wanted to know whom he was to declare his revenge upon. Then, he found a familiar face reproduced in ink. He traced a scaly finger down to the caption.
PRINCESS CÆLESTIA.