Chapter 2: A Town of Dragons
____________________________________________________________________
Blue again. All of it.
This is real. Everything before now was an illusion, a dream. I've just woken up, and now I'm...somewhere. Somewhere blue.
I drift one way (I think it's up) and the smile comes back. This time it's more talkative.
"So, you've woken up."
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
I think (therefore I am) for a second and decide that the smile has a point. I'm not sure. Of anything, in fact. Actually, there is one thing I know for sure...
"You said I'm 'in-between.'"
"Yes."
"So am I neither dreaming nor awake?"
The smile's never been this big before.
"You're a clever young drake. I'm sure you'll figure it out."
I'm about to ask how the smile can tell I am a drake when it doesn't have eyes when I notice one staring at me, right where an eye would be if the smile was part of a face. It's big, and round, and just as blue as the rest of the world. A sapphire sitting on a pure white plate. In the middle of the ocean.
An endless, blue ocean.
____________________________________________________________________
"...fell..."
"...long...?"
"Not...two min...breathing fine."
"Wait...around...his pulse."
My eyes open, slowly, and the world comes lurching back into focus. I'm on the ground again, facing a sky that's big and blue and empty. Again, my memory falters. How did I get here? Where is here?
What is lying on my chest?
I look down at myself and stare into a pair of golden irises. The pupils in said irises shrink in surprise, and the creature on top of me gasps and shrinks back.
"You're awake!" she shouts, and I can tell who she is in that moment. Or, who she's supposed to be.
I'm staring at Lyra Heartstrings, and she's staring back. But it isn't Lyra Heartstrings in front of me, because this isn't a unicorn. This is a dragon, sitting here with me, a dragon with scales and spines and fangs. Yet those scales are the same mint green as her coat, and her spines are the same pale gray as her mane and tail. Sticking out of her forehead is a horn, almost identical to the unicorn horn that adorns the unicorn-Lyra's head, but larger, sharper, and more...dragon-like (I just can't find another way to describe it). She covers her muzzle with her hands (hands! Like she always talked about having!) and continues to fret over me while I gape at her like a zoo animal.
"Are you alright? Why did you just collapse like that?"
Because you're not a dragon in real life, you're a unicorn, I say in my mind. Aloud, I explain, "Heat stroke, or something like that," which is probably the dumbest excuse a fire-proof cold-blooded lizard like myself can ever give. Fortunately, dragin-Lyra is too worried about me to actually think about my fib, and she puts a hand to my forehead.
"We should get you to a hospital, Mr..." She looks at me. Crap. She wants a name. I blurt one out without thinking.
"Emerald. Emerald Spires."
"Well, Mr. Spires," dragin-Lyra says, and she stands up on her two slender, 100% draconic legs as she talks, "we should get you to a hospital as soon as we can, in case you're hurt more than it seems."
I can't go to a hospital. If I go to a hospital, they'll know I'm lying about the heat stroke and then questions will really start piling up. Can't have that. I have to get out of here, and the exit is there, only ten feet away.
"No no, I'm fine, really." I'm not lying when I tell her this, and to prove it to her I stand up and turn to show her my perfectly handsome build. "See?"
As I turn, I notice the small group of dragons crowding around me and dragin-Lyra. I'm a bit surprised that I didn't notice them before now, though I had been occupied trying to accept that somepony I normally know as a pony is now a dragon (something I had not yet accomplished), and as I stare at them I notice familiar colors that tell me that Lyra isn't the only pony-turned-dragon. I see dragin-Bon-Bon (of course, she's always with Lyra), dragin-Berry Punch (the wine bottle gives it away) and even a winged gray dragon who can only be Derpy Hooves (one eye is trained on me, the other on the sky). Every single spectator is the dragon counterparts of the ponies I know back in Ponyville. I let that sink in a while, then turn back to dragin-Lyra, who is now eyeing me suspiciously.
"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks me. "You look pale."
"I'm fine, really. I don't need a hospital." Not that kind, anyway. I try to walk away, but dragin-Lyra follows me, along with the dragin-Bon-Bon. The rest of the crowd, devoid now of their fainted entertainment, loses interest and drifts apart.
"Wait!" dragin-Lyra says. She grabs my shoulder to hold me back. I sigh and turn to her again. I don't have time for this.
"What?" I wish immediately I hadn't said it so rudely. I take a better look at her, and notice for the first time the lyre tattooed at the base of her neck. Glancing at dragin-Bon-Bon, I notice three pieces of candy tattooed in the same area. Apparently, in this crazy place, dragons get cutie marks just like ponies, only on their collars instead of their flanks. Great, another impossible thing to put on the mental list that is, at the moment, growing exponentially with each passing moment here.
"Do you need a guide?" dragin-Lyra asks.
"What?"
"A guide. You're clearly new to Dragonsville, and-"
"New to where?" Oh Celestia. Did I just hear what I think I heard?
"Dragonsville, happiest town in all of Serpentia!"
Equestria, Serpentia. Ponyville, Dragonsville. Sweet Luna, where am I?
"Hey, you look pale again. You sure you don't need to go anywhere?"
I open my mouth to answer her, but dragin-Bon-Bon speaks up first.
"For Celestia's sake, Lyra, leave him alone! He doesn't want your help!"
She's hit the nail on the head, but that doesn't stop me from feeling guilty when dragin-Lyra looks down at the ground sheepishly.
"Oh. Sorry. I guess I was being kind of nosy."
I tell her it's alright, but my mind is already focused on getting out of here. Dragin-Lyra smiles kindly, and holds her claw out. In it is a crumpled piece of parchment.
"You left this back where you fell."
I take the parchment and uncrumple it. It's my note from Whoever (I don't think it's Twilight anymore). I thank dragin-Lyra, and watch her and dragin-Bon-Bon as they turn the corner and disappear from view. With them out of sight, I turn my attention back to the arch I'd walked under minutes ago. Storing the parchment away in my storage center (much more convenient to keep things in your stomach than always carrying a backpack around), I head towards the arch, ready to brave the forest once more. Then I see another familiar now-draconic face and stop dead in my tracks. This one was unmistakable; there's nopony(dragon) else she could be.
Pink everywhere. Spines that curled into a signature cotton candy motif. A triad of balloons on her neck. An oversized, cartoonish smile that says either "I'm on happy pills!" or "I'm crazy!" The dragoness reaches me, and I realize when she stops that I am staring straight at her and have been since she'd begun walking towards me.
"Hi!" she yells, and holds out a claw for me to take. "I'm Pinkie Pie, and it's very nice to meet you!"
She's larger than me, so I feel extra intimidated by her forwardness. At this point, my brain is starting to comprehend that I am in fact in a town filled with dragon counterparts of all the citizens of Ponyville, at least in my imagination, so I don't feel as faint this time. Still, it's hard to believe that I'm actually seeing what Pinkie looks like as a dragon.
"So," she says when she's done wringing my hand, "what's your name? Ooh, ooh, let me guess! I love guessing games! Especially 'Guess the Cupcake Flavor,' because nodragon ever loses at that! You always get a cupcake, whether you got the right gem or not, and I always looooove eating gemstone cupcakes! I bet you'd love them too! What's your favorite gem, topaz or sapphire? Ooh, or ruby? I looooove ruby! And diamond and shamrock and amethyst and-"
"Emerald," I answer, before she can go any further, "and I like rubies the best."
"Me too! We're totally going to be bestest friends forever! You've got to come try a ruby tart at the Sugarcube Corner!" She grabs my wrist and starts yanking me, with surprising strength, down a nearby street and away from the town entrance. I give it a parting glance, knowing that dragin-Pinkie will never let me leave, and go along with her plans for me. As we move through the dragon-Ponyville (Dragonsville, right?), I review what I know in my head:
1. I am lost, either in some parallel universe or some twisted part of my mind I don't know about.
2. The town I am lost in is called Dragonsville, which is a draconic version of Ponyville, with draconic versions of everypony I know and love.
3. I have no memory of anything immediately prior to waking up on the side of a road leading to Dragonsville, save for the image of me getting into a carriage with Twilight and our friends.
4. I have a note with the words "Two Weeks" on it in unfamiliar handwriting as my only clue as to how I've gotten here.
5. I am hungrier than a parasprite.
That last one comes to me just as dragin-Pinkie stops dragging me and props me up on my feet again. She flings her arm out dramatically and gestures to the familiar gingerbread house in front of us.
"Emerald," she announces, "I give you the Sugarcube Corner."
"Looks delicious." I joke to avoid suspicion. Dragin-Pinkie laughs loudly, turns some heads, then once again latches onto my wrist and pulls me inside the bakery. The moment we step foot inside the shop I am bombarded with different mesmerizing aromas, and this time I do almost faint. I spot the display racks filled with different cupcakes, all of them shimmering with gemstones. Another rack holds pies and tarts, some with gemstones decorating the top, others covered with tinfoil. They're of all different sizes and shapes, and I only realize I'm drooling when dragin-Pinkie wipes some from my chin. I turn to her, still dumbfounded by the beauty of the baked goods, and she gives me her trademark grin, with more teeth than I remember.
"First one's on the house!" she announces, and swoops behind the counter to snag a generous ruby-studded slice of cake for me. She hands it to me, and in no more than ten seconds it's on its way down into my stomach. It is the most delicious slice of cake I've ever eaten.
"Looks like we've got your usual down," dragin-Pinkie giggles, still standing beside me. She hands me another ruby cupcake and adds, "I'll make sure to serve up plenty of it at your Welcome to Dragonsville Party."
Welcome to Dragonsville Party? I remember Pinkie's party addiction and almost choke on my cupcake. I can't have a party, for the same reason that I can't go to a hospital. I shake my head, but dragin-Pinkie is already off, conversing with herself over whether the streamers should match my scales or my fins.
"There'll be Pin the Tail on the Wyvern, and a Gemstone Hunt, and it'll be your housewarming party too, and-" She gasps, and, to my amazement, a trail of bright pink fire shoots out of her mouth. It brushes against me lightly. I ignore it. As much as I want to know how she is capable of shooting fire while breathing in, I can't, as she grabs my shoulders before I can speak and begins to shake me violently.
"We have to get to your house! I have to see it, so I can know where the DJ can plug in her turntables!"
I shake her off. "I don't have a house."
"Apartment?"
"No."
"Hotel room?"
"Uh-uh."
"Traveler's hostel?"
"What?"
She makes to grab me again, but I get a hold of her wrist first.
"Listen, Pinkie, I appreciate the kindness, but I really don't want a party, and I don't plan on staying here very long."
Dragin-Pinkie's happy, party-planning mood disintegrates before I can let go of her wrist, leaving her looking like she is about to cry, which she might. The tragedy of not throwing a party must be harder on her than I usually think.
"B-But why not?" she asks, lip quivering like a toddler that's facing the word "no" for the first time.
I stare at her and think of how good a question that is. Why not? Why not? I am in a town that is a copy of the one I've lived in for the past ten years, talking to a dragoness who should actually be a mare, and I have no idea how to get back to my world, my sane, familiar, safe world. I don't even know how I got here in the first place. Most of me still wants to believe this is just some twisted version of a fever dream. If it isn't that, though, and I actually am stuck in a parallel universe dominated by dragon counterparts of my friends and family, then it's probably for the best if I stay in town, instead of going back into what I now know is a different version of the Everfree forest. So, why not?
"Actually," I say, making my choice, "I think I can stay for one party..."
Dragin-Pinkie Pie's smile reappears in a flash, and all is right with the world (except, of course, for all the dragons). She opens her mouth again to say something, then shuts it. Then she opens it again. Then she shuts it again. Open, shut. Open, shut. I hear her teeth clack together with each shut. She rubs her chin after the tenth shut and hmmmms, then lights up in a way that screams, "Idea!"
"I know! We'll ask Twilight if she has extra room!"
I blanch at the mention of Twilight. Twilight. As in my sister, almost my mother, who has taken care of me for nineteen years since she first hatched me the day she got her cutie mark. Twilight, the librarian who goes berserk if she can't do everything in her power to please her mentor. Twilight, who worries more over things like the condition of her Daring Do collection than whether or not I have signed my soul over to one of her friends (an act which I am more ashamed of than anything I've ever done). That Twilight. As a dragoness.
Dragin-Pinkie did not wait for me to agree with her. She's already heading to the door, and I follow her swiftly, waving my arms wildly.
"Nonononononono! Not Twilight!" I realize too late that I sound absolutely crazy, and dragin-Pinkie gives me a confused stare. I ignore my blush and I back away from her a bit.
"I mean," I correct, "I think it'd be easier to go to an inn than ask somepo-- somedragon to let a stranger sleep in her home." Nice save, Spike. Almost blew it.
Unfortunately, my changing of the word "somepony" to "somedragon" doesn't stop dragin-Pinkie from laughing and shaking her head and saying, "Not at all, silly. Twilight's the best, she'll let you stay for a while. Besides"--she gives me a look that makes me feel like I am being interrogated--"you don't have any money, do you?"
I always keep a pouch of bits in my storage center in case I get lost, but that is for when I am lost in Equestria. This is most certainly not Equestria, and I am not about to risk pulling out some alien money and showing it off to another dragon. So I blush again, and shrug like I don't know what she's talking about, and she giggles again and everything's okay. She takes my hand this time, not my wrist, and says confidently, "Then you're coming with me to talk with Twilight. Trust me. You'll love her."
I already do, like a brother, but I don't say this and instead go along with dragin-Pinkie once more. She pulls me through the town of Dragonsville again, and this time I take a look at some of the buildings that go by. There's Sofas and Quills again, though it's much larger and has the largest feather quill I've ever seen hanging in the window. I can spot the train station from down another street, mostly because the happy little train I'd ridden to Canterlot countless times before is now the height of the Ponyville Town Hall, which, here in Dragonsville, is in the shape of an enormous gem and twice as large as it was back in Ponyville. Everything, it seems, is larger in Dragonland (or whatever dragin-Lyra called it), probably to accommodate the dragons who are no doubt fully grown and maybe even larger than I am whenever I go greed-crazy like that one time on my birthday. Surprisingly, though, the dragons I see as Pinkie and I (no point in calling her dragin-Pinkie when pony-Pinkie isn't around) make our way through familiar and unfamiliar roads aren't that large, certainly not as large as the green dragon I'd stolen a gem from as a kid. In fact, only a handful of them are larger than Garble and his gang were. Perhaps adult ponies are still young as dragons?
The library comes into sight, and a nostalgic smile spreads across my face as we near it. Home is home, parallel universe or not, and I feel as though I can simply walk in, grab a novel off one of the shelves, and make my way up to my room to read. But, this is not the library I know and love, I remind myself: if I listen to this urge, I will be thrown out and probably hurt very badly by a Twilight Sparkle that doesn't know who I am. Which brings my thoughts to another topic, one that was birthed when dragin-Lyra asked my name. I did not give the name "Spike." I was "Emerald Spires." Lyra bought this, which means that she didn't recognize the dragon-me, which means one of two things: (1) She's never seen me before in this universe, or (2) The Spike in Dragonsville is not a dragon.
We've reached the library entrance. Pinkie knocks loudly, three times. An overwhelming fear of what lies beyond the door before us falls over me. Somewhere, puzzle pieces clink and clank into place, and the picture they make is overwhelming. I have to get out of here.
The sound of hooves on wood. The doorknob glows with a green aura. Not Twilight's. She isn't answering the door. She's probably busy with some new spell, so why would she stop to answer a door when she has an assistant to do that for her?
The door opens, and standing on the other side of it is a purple unicorn with a spiky green mane and tail. On his flank is the image of a scroll floating over an emerald flame the same color as his eyes. We hold eye contact for a full second, and in that I scream in my mind and he reads it in my eyes. He frowns at me, and turns to Pinkie. The frown becomes an almost childish grin. He has large canine teeth.
"Pinkie!" says Spike the unicorn, #1 Assistant to Twilight Sparkle the dragoness, "what's up? Who's this guy?"