//------------------------------// // Dragon Discovered // Story: Friends and Enemies // by ObabScribbler //------------------------------// 5. Dragon Discovered The dungeons were deep below the castle and in such disrepair Gilda wondered when they had last been used. Despite what Captain Ripper claimed, the cells were comparatively few and their poor shape testament to lack of use. The captured unicorns were packed in so tight some of them in the smaller cells couldn’t sit or lay down. Dungeons weren’t supposed to be nice, but these weren’t just grungy, they were neglected. Gilda was no expert but the magic in and around them felt old. Even someone like her could feel it the moment she walked through the door. The way the unicorn mare stiffened and shook her head, as if her horn hurt, also said a lot about how powerful the magic had to be. Gilda was glad to get out of there and hurried back up the winding staircase to the surface. The staircase emptied out into a corridor in the lower echelons of the castle, far away from the throne room. The castle was so huge there were large portions that obviously weren’t used very much and this was one of them. It was still spotlessly clean but the décor was in serious need of an overhaul. Gilda wondered what she was supposed to do next. She followed the three Subordinates she had come in with until they whispered to each other and flapped their wings to fly ahead of her, glancing back to make sure she wasn’t keeping up. Gilda wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of chasing them, so instead she picked a random turn-off and headed down a different corridor like she had planned to go that way all along. “Bunch of half-brained idiots,” she muttered as she stalked along. “I don’t need them. I don’t need anyone.” What she did need, however, was a map. “Ponyfeathers,” she cursed. Moments later she realised she had used a pony expression and blushed. Old habits sure did die hard. “Where am I?” She trundled along until she reached a corridor lined with old suits of armour on either side. The suits weren’t one uniform design, but charted the history of Equestrian royal guards in shape and form. Some had plumed helmets, some had wickedly spiny helmets, and some had no helmets at all. Gilda stopped in front of one with wing holes cut into the sides and barbed shoes that stretched up past the fetlocks, with articulated parts to allow knee bending. A pegasus in armour like that could sure do a lot of mid-air damage. She wondered why modern guards didn’t wear it. Maybe if they had they would have stood a better chance against King Claw. Maybe if Rainbow Dash had – She broke off the thought like snapping off a key in a lockbox she didn’t want to open. She wasn’t ready to go there yet. Turning away from the armour, she caught sight of movement behind a suit on the opposite side. Frowning, she crouched to stalk it, catlike. Her pupils, already dilated in the poor light, opened wider to catch any hint of further movement. It might have been a trick of the light, or an illusion from her own exhausted mind, but she didn’t think so. All her predator instincts were yelling at her. Slowly and carefully she inched forward. Then she sprang, darting between two of the huge suits and landing in the dusty alcove beyond. A raspy cry and the feel of something alive under her claws told her she had been right: she wasn’t alone. “All right, chuckles,” she growled. “Game’s over.” “G-Gilda?” She looked down at the small purple dragon she had pinned. “Do I know you?” The dragon stared up at her with wide eyes. It was a puny creature, head-spines all rounded and soft. It was nothing at all like the fearsome creatures everypony told stories about. She was no dragon expert but she recognised one when she saw one, even a puny specimen like this. She dug her claws in, realising belatedly that she should have jammed one claw over its face to prevent it breathing fire at her. With a dexterous twist she flipped it onto its belly and pressed against the back of its neck, keeping its face to the floor where it couldn’t barbeque her. “Wait!” it cried in a now muffled voice. “It’s me, Spike!” “Who?” “Spike! From Ponyville!” When she didn’t respond it added, “Rainbow Dash’s friend!” Recognition pummelled her. She remembered seeing a small dragon at the party Pinkie Pie threw on her last day in Ponyville. She hadn’t spoken to it but remembered thinking, in between suspicions about Pinkie and the pranks, that it was weird to see one mixed in among so many ponies. Those thoughts had shot down the ladder of importance when she walked out, however, and she hadn’t given it any thought at all since then. Escaping Winter Frost and his goons had taken up all her attention until she made the decision to cross the border out of Equestria into Gryphona. She didn’t let up her hold on the dragon’s neck. “And?” “Huh?” “So what? You expect me to hug you or something?” “I, uh …” The dragon seemed lost for words. Then it sagged. “You’re … on their side, aren’t you? Aw nuts. This day just keeps getting worse and worse – unk!” Gilda leaned her weight forward, cutting him off. “Why are you sneaking around back here? Are you planning to use some of this armour against King Claw? A spear, maybe, or one of those halberds? Because I can tell you right now, that’d be a bad idea. Those old shields won’t save you if you try to fight him.” “What? No! I mean, uh … no … no, I wasn’t … look, I was just trying to hide, okay? I saw griffins everywhere and just thought I’d better hide until I could find my friends and figure out what happened.” “I’ll tell you what happened: we won and you lost.” “Yeah, I got that.” “So you snivelled away into the shadows. I guess I should’ve expected something cowardly from the likes of you.” “Hey, I’m no coward!” The dragon tried to twist to look at her but she kept that mouth firmly to the floor. “But I’m not an idiot either. You may have noticed I’m kind of outnumbered against you griffins.” You griffins. Gilda ignored how she was lumped in with the rest of the Claw Army. That was what she had accepted when she joined up, hadn’t she? She had known the score. No point lamenting it now. “Being outnumbered doesn’t mean much to you Equestrians. You seem pretty hot on being heroes against impossible odds.” She allowed smugness to creep into her tone. “Too bad it didn’t work out this time. Those Canterlot ponies didn’t have much fight in them anyway, but even that vanished when the Claw Army trashed those – what were they called again? Oh yeah, the Elements of Harmony.” The dragon bucked against her. The tips of her claws dug into the back of its neck but it didn’t seem to notice. Gilda wondered whether the scales were too thick there or if it was just too mad to feel the pricking. “What have you done with my friends?” “You’re such good pals, but you weren’t with them when they needed you?” “No, I was coming back from … that doesn’t matter. What did you do to them?” “The same as we did to the rest of Canterlot.” Gilda kept her voice steady, pointedly not thinking about spitting out multi-coloured mane as she held onto a kicking body in a death-dive. “Beat them.” “Where are they?” The little dragon was getting quite frantic. “Where are they?! What did you do to the princesses? What did you monsters do to Twilight, Applejack and … and Rarity?” Gilda had heard the spiel about King Claw and the princesses. She arched her neck, firming her shoulders against the dragon’s struggles. “King Claw defeated Celestia, Luna and everypony with them.” “Defeated?” “Work it out, dingbat. Do you really think he’d leave them alive after laying siege to the castle?” “No!” The dragon struggled with renewed strength. “No, no, no!” “Yes,” Gilda replied coldly, fighting to keep it still. “King Claw killed them. That’s why the battle ended: he won. Deal with it.” The dragon gave a cry of pain and rage. Then, abruptly, all the fight seemed to go out of it. Gilda held on so tight that the judders a few seconds later reverberated through her shoulders into the base of her wings. She blinked. She hadn’t known dragons could cry. “No,” came the broken whisper. “Twilight … Rarity … Applejack …” The names were familiar. To be honest, Gilda hadn’t bothered to learn the names of Dash’s other friends - well, apart from that damn Pinkie Pie. The dragon hadn’t mentioned the pink pony, making Gilda wonder whether she had survived the battle. It would be just her luck if the pony she liked least was the one to still be kicking around this place somewhere. The dragon’s obvious grief struck a chord in her that she couldn’t afford to feel, so she said coldly, “All dead. I hope you said goodbye, because King Claw isn’t known for holding elaborate funerals for his enemies.” Yes, that was it. She had to shut out any emotions except her long-held resentment. Getting back in touch with that was like putting on an old vest: comforting and familiar, even if it was full of holes. “Although maybe you’ll see what’s left of them hanging from the battlements. You could say goodbye then, I suppose. Or maybe –” She grunted at the sudden spasm of strength that nearly bucked her out of the alcove and into a suit of armour. “You monster!” the little dragon yelled, heedless of whether he would be heard by someone else. “How can you be so cruel? They were my friends!” “Big deal. Friendship is overrated.” “Does that mean you turned on Rainbow Dash too?” Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t – Gilda’s lack of answer was apparently answer enough. “Oh my gosh, you did!” She ground the edges of her beak together. “Like I said: friendship is overrated.” “I can’t believe Rainbow Dash defended you when other ponies said you were a bad seed. She stood up for you and you turn on her like this? Why? Why would you do something so … so EVIL?” Evil? Her? Gilda scowled even though the dragon couldn’t see her. She should have just snapped its neck at the beginning, not engaged it in conversation. King Claw was right: griffins all the way, not ponies, nor dragons, nor whatever other creatures that had chosen Equestria as their home. “Because this is who I am.” She sneered. “Didn’t you get that memo?” “So everypony else was right and Rainbow Dash was wrong. What a way to find out. You’re a real piece of work, Gilda.” “Hey, I’m not the one who killed your friends, pony-lover.” “You may as well have. Their …” The dragon swallowed, choking a little on the word. “Their … deaths are still on your head. And you already admitted you hurt Rainbow Dash – your own friend! You have pony blood on your claws. You should be ashamed of yourself for ever letting someone a good as Rainbow Dash call you friend when you obviously weren’t worth it.” Don’t let it get to you. Don’t think about Dash. Don’t react. It’s just some stinking little dragon. Don’t think about her. Don’t think about what you did, or what Captain Ripper will do to you if he ever finds out you didn’t finish – Too late. Gilda flicked the dragon onto its back, fisted one claw around its snout to keep it shut and hoisting it up by its neck with her other claw. She pushed her beak into its face, anger clouding her rationality. “Listen, you overgrown gecko: I never asked for Dash to defend me. I never wanted her pity. If she chose to big me up to you nerds, then that was her look-out, not mine. I’m not gonna be held responsible for something she did and I’m not gonna feel bad about the way things ultimately went down. I gave her a chance out there – more than one. She chose you freaks over me again, just like last time, so don’t you dare make out that she was my best bud. If she had been, she never would have let me go – TWICE.” The dragon stared at her, eyes still wide, but burning with enough fury and anguish to make her maintain her grip on its snout. Gilda reared back. “Why am I even talking to you? You’re not worth my time.” She flapped her wings and hop-skipped between the suits of armour and down the corridor, not sure where she was going but damn sure she didn’t want to look into the dragon’s censorious eyes anymore. She glanced at it only once, and thereafter kept her face firmly averted so she wouldn’t see its tears.