“The stars shine brightly upon our meeting anew, little sister. It gladdens my heart to see you hale and strong, though yet my bones grow frail and the keen of my mind is dulled.”
Princess Celestia bowed her head deeply to the visitor, the deep resonance of the dragon’s speech more similar to the grinding of an avalanche than any sound that rightly should come from a live throat. Though, Twilight supposed, the argument could easily be made that the dragon was not of the living. Could you truly be considered alive, if death wasn’t the implacable enemy waiting for you, but instead an annoying banker, badgering you about your debt? Annoying, and an annoyance that may find you in time, but no serious threat in the now.
After all, her mind went on, mercilessly following her train of thought. It isn’t as though a dragon can actually die, in the classical sense. They don’t age, and there is little chance of an enemy killing one once it has matured.
The little mare couldn’t even think of the last time she had heard so much as a rumor of a dragon dying of natural causes, and there were obviously no reliable historical texts in the library pertaining to the subject. She would have read them long ago, and she was sure that had she read any information so potentially valuable, she would not have forgotten it. Even finding out if there was an upward limit on a dragon’s age was impossible. Only a dragon truly knew how old they were, and they had the rather vexing habit of assigning themselves arbitrary ages. From what everypony had been able to glean from the occasional diplomat or exile, a dragon’s rank in society was determined by his age, before anything else.
The older a dragon, the more powerful in both the classical, and socio-political sense. They also tended to accrue terrifying wealth which they were famous for jealously hoarding. After age, it seemed, wealth was the only factor with any major importance in determining a dragons place in society.
Twilight Sparkle, the far calmer, rational voice in her mind interjected. You are rambling. Stop it. The Princess asked you to be here, so obviously she has some need of you. I would suggest that we pay attention to her, rather than the dragon. You can freak out once we are back in our room.
A fair plan Twilight decided. Closing her eyes for a moment, she settled her thoughts.To be fair, most ponies had reacted far worse than she when confronted by their first dragon. When that dragon was quite literally the size of several of the small hills in the area, Twilight believed that her reactionary tactic of throwing up idea after thought to protect herself had been a rather mellow reaction.
As Cadance had taught her when she first began schooling, Twilight calmed her breathing and forced her heart to beat slower. The flood of adrenaline that had saturated her system had begun to fade and the lightheaded, faintly nauseous reaction of her body was disorienting.
She forced her gorge to return to its proper place, and opened her eyes. This was no different from going to school. Just another new student. A new student who was several thousand times her weight, who breathed fire and had teeth larger than her entire body.
Obscurely, that thought was a great comfort to Twilight. Thinking that way, the dragon was far less intimidating than it had been only moments before. Sure, he was covered in thick scales which were almost impervious to any damage, and had teeth as long as her entire body, with fangs nearly twice her size. Apart from that though, he was just another bigger, stronger student.
Twilight had started school as a small, terrified filly, and like small predators everywhere, the other students had formed packs, and ruthlessly attacked the weakest member. Twilight had galloped home after little more than an hour on her first day in Magic Kindergarten. She had found Cadance, and thrown herself around the pink legs of her beloved friend, sobbing and begging her not to make Twilight go back.
The older unicorn had shot an apologetic glance at the Princess, who at the time Twilight hadn’t even noticed to have been in the room. Celestia had risen, nodding to Cadance and walked out of the room. Then Cadance had hushed Twilight, soothing the filly as she rubbed small circles into the youngster’s back.
She had eventually calmed Twilight, whose wailing sobs had subsided into hiccuping coughs of infinite depression. Her own eyes had been watering when she finally prised the little unicorn from her leg, setting her on her bed gently. She had sighed, folding her legs beneath her on the cold floor of the small room. She had looked up, directly into Twilight’s eyes, now on a level with her own.
Then she had told Twilight something that had served her well throughout the years. “Twilight. Listen to me. No matter what anypony else says. I love you. And if they don’t stop teasing you, or they scare you or make you feel bad, I want you to promise me that you will do something.”
“W-what?”
The pink mare smiled warmly, touching her horn softly to Twilight’s own stubby protrusion, sending a shower of sparks and a flood of warm emotion through the smaller mare. “I want you to close your eyes, and calm down. Then, open them, and look at them. Look at everything. I want you to focus on the smallest details. What did Diamond Tiara’s mane look like? What about Birdsong? Where was he sitting? What did the desks look like?”
“I... don’t know.” Twilight had replied, her voice distant, racking her brain for the memories. “I was busy c-crying.” She looked down, avoiding the soft gaze of her friend.
A pink hoof pushed her head gently back up. “Next time, focus on that. The little things. The real things. What they say or do doesn’t matter. None of that is real. Just the small stuff.” Then Cadance had smiled warmly. “And speaking of small stuff..”
She pounced onto the bed, sending Twilight squealing with childish delight into the air, before Cadance wrapped her in a warm hug as the filly landed on her. Eliciting further squeals and shrill giggles from the smaller pony, Cadance brought her mouth to Twilight’s belly, blowing a raspberry against her young friend.
“Feel better, little one?”
“Mhm.”
“Feel like going back to school?”
“... Yes. Thank you Cadance.”
They had hugged then, and Twilight had gone back to school. Since then, whenever the horrible behavior of others became too much to bear, Twilight would close her eyes, and call back that happy memory, and count to ten. Then she would open her eyes, and focus on the smallest detail.
The scales of the dragon were a series of minutely varying shades, but they conformed almost wholly to dark greens and purples, though the individual scales held colors so complex that Twilight couldn’t put a name to many of them. They almost formed waves that rippled along the beasts bulk, gradually transitioning from one shade to the next, whether the change be in the actual color or simply the luster of the scale in question, each one was utterly unique.
There was a slight banding to the scales, not very unlike the rings Twilight had seen in a cross section of a felled tree. The gardener who had been clearing away the detritus from the storm that had sent the old oak toppling had called Twilight over, telling her that each ring was a year of the trees life. Later research had revealed to her that it was in fact each doubled pair of rings where where the yearly markers, the dark bands that the mare had pointed to merely being the growth during the wet season for the tree, while the paler bands had been the dry season growth.
Was it something similar in the dragon’s scales? It was a common logical premise that the less variables a solution has, the more likely it is to be the true solution. Twilight knew that trees and several animals displayed such a banding pattern as they aged, showing growth of the individual over time, so it stood to reason that the dragon would not be any different. To further support the idea, Twilight’s view shifted to several parts of the dragon, form the broad scales of his legs to the finer ones on the leading edge of his wings, to the almost invisible ones lining his eyes.
Though the purple coloration made an accurate count difficult, a quick overview of all the areas showed a seemingly similar number of rings on each scale, as if the dragon had all of its scales at birth, or molt, or whatever, and they had simply grown with it.
“And the sun and moon are but the youthful harbingers of ancient wisdom, as you who have spoken to the eternal darkness know. Hail ancient one, and dain to impart the teachings of times long past to this foolish youth.” Princess Celestia said, bowing her head deeply to the dragon.
Her mane, which was normally rustled by an invisible breeze, was now whipping about her head as though caught in some fierce gale. A common phrase used to describe the pastel rainbows gentle, undulating motion was that it was blown by the ‘solar wind’. The phrase was obviously a reference to the connection between the Princess and the orb blazing overhead during the daylight hours.
Seeing the reaction of her mane in the sunlight seemed to affirm this, for whenever Princess Celestia stepped hoof into the direct sunlight, then not only would the snail-like motion of her mane increase its pace, but the sun itself seemed to react to her presence, a flare of light shining bright and warm for just a moment when she touched the light.
Twilight was beginning to think otherwise though. She was a unicorn, and even as ill versed in the application and manipulation of magical energies as she was, the sheer force of the magic emanating from the scaled monster nearby was almost suffocating. Everypony knew that sunlight itself held inherent magical power, though it was a very small, specialized kind of magic. Thinking back, the Princess’s mane had also shown increased activity near any kind of magical artifact, such as any of the candles she had enchanted.
It wasn’t the sunlight her mane was reacting to, Twilight realized. It was the simple presence of magical energies, even the smallest traces like that given off by sunlight and the small enhancements in the Heart. It would be impossible to test her theory without sequestering the Princess wholly away from magic, which was utterly impossible, but it was an interesting prospect. It essentially made the Princess a detector for magical power.
For a moment, the image of somepony holding the Princess by her rear hooves, sweeping her across the ground in search of buried magical coins flashed through Twilight’s mind, and she snorted in brief amusement.
“Is this who I think it is, Celestia?”
The deep growling voice echoed slowly through Twilight’s mind, eventually penetrating the focused analysis of the purpose of the thinner, flexible scales on certain parts of the dragons body. She had just decided that the smaller scales were in places which required finer movement than the large, rigid scales would provide, such as around the mouth, nose, and eyes, when the words ordered themselves in her mind.
Twilight’s eyes flicked to the Princess nearby for a moment, before locking on the slitted blue-green pupils of the dragon. Twilight bowed her head to the guest, taking care that her eyes never left the dragons. Should he decide that Twilight was going to be his snack, Twilight very much doubted that even the Princess would be able to stop the monster, but she was not going to meekly let it have her either. His fat scaly carcass could chase her down.
The dragon laughed, sending a puff of scarlet and azure flames jetting from his mouth as he did. “Ah, Celestia. She is just as you were. Full of fire and with a mind to match it. Be at peace, little friend, for my scaly carcass would not be satisfied with so meager a meal.”
Twilight added apparent telepathy to the growing list of facts she knew about the dragon, turning to greet the newcomer galloping towards them.
“Not telepathy, starchild. I cannot see into your mind, only hear that which you are shouting.” The bulk behind Twilight shifted into what seemed to be a more comfortable position, looking out at the approaching pony.
Cadance pounded up to them, panting from her gallop from the Heart. The soft grass of the plain stretching out behind the marble fortress was soft under her aching hooves, and the mare looked spent. She raised herself nobly though, bowing her head deeply, first to the Princess, then to their guest.
“Ahh. Welcome, little mother.”
At the rumbling words, Cadance paled, the color leaving her face in a blotchy rush. The whites of her wide, innocent eyes were showing around the tiny pupils which had contracted to mere pinpoints. Then the mare glanced aside, first to Princess Celestia, and then to Twilight, before shuddering and looking determinedly at the ground between her hooves.
Fear. Twilight thought, looking at her old friend. Why would she be afraid?
Thoughts began chasing themselves around Twilight’s mind, and the mare tuned out the conversation of the other three for a moment. Princess Celestia seemed to be admonishing the dragon for his words, though Twilight was unsure what he had done wrong. Whatever it was though, it had a profound impact of Cadance.
Something the dragon had said had terrified her. What though? It wasn’t simply that the dragon had spoken, Twilight was sure that the growling avalanche of his voice could be easily heard as Cadance came to them from the Heart. He had seemed to know Cadance, though it was clear that the two of them had never actually met. That was little enough cause for freight though. She was a member of the nobility, and was known to associate closely with the Princess. Ponies form across Helios knew who she was on sight, as a means to gain power for themselves if not for the kindness and help she gave freely to everypony.
Mother then. That must be the word that had caused Cadance such distress. Twilight knew that she had hurt Cadance when she had spoken to her in anger, screaming that Cadance wasn’t her mother. As much as Twilight had hurt both of them with those words though, that was still not enough reason for the mare’s reaction. Did Cadance want to be a mother then? Or perhaps, the dragon was referring to Cadance’s own near mothering of Twilight. That could certainly cause alarm, given the current state of their relationship, but it still wasn’t enough.
‘Cadance had a wild side to her...’ The memory reared its head, and the words Twilight had overheard only a little more than a week ago returned to her. ‘She started sleeping with every stallion at Court...’
One great, reptilian eye fixed on her, shining with interest as Twilight’s organized mind almost screamed her thoughts into the ancient mind. Slowly, the other two quieted, following her guest’s gaze as he stared at the small mare.
‘So the little slut got pregnant, and nopony knows who the foal’s father is.’
Cadance had been a mother. In the past tense, for Twilight was sure she would have noticed if her friend had been secreting a foal about the Heart. That was why the dragon’s greeting had terrified Cadance, and why Twilight’s angry words had hurt her so badly. Cadance still loved her child, the foal she no longer had.
“Mmm,” The purple scales lining the dragon’s lips shifted and pulled away from the long white fangs. The snarling growl shook the ground as the scaled head rose on its long neck, glaring down at the pair of ponies staring at Twilight. “You have not told her? Celestia, I thought better of you. Are you nothing more than a child, afraid to face the chance of loss?”
“Hold your tongue!” The Princess whipped around, growling at the dragon in turn. Energy had, unconsciously Twilight was certain, begun to swirl around the alicorn as her anger called forth the forces of life and creation. “There is too much risk, and well you know it lizard. Or have you forgotten what happened when your vigil slipped?”
The dragon’s eyes widened as though the Princess had struck him, though not even the almost impossible strength that the white alicorn bore within herself would have been able to even discomfort the mighty beast. The golden shod hoof stamped hard on the ground, and the Princess continued to glare at her guest, obviously bombarding the dragon without a sound.
Seeing the Princess engaged, Twilight turned her head to look at Cadance. The pink mare was steadily regaining her color, though she still looked unhealthily pale to Twilight. She smiled weakly at the purple mare though, and sidled over while the two ancient creatures continued their silent argument.
“Cadance...” Twilight spoke, before turning to look at the ground. She swallowed heavily, her throat suddenly bone dry, and tried again. “Cadance, I’m... I’m sorry.
“I’m sorry for what I said to you. I was, it was wrong of me to say anything like that. You’ve always been there for me, and Princess Luna help me see that. She showed me what was right in front of me, all this time, and I’m sorry I yelled at you.” Twilight looked back up, tears glistening in her eyes. Her voice was still strong though, with only the faintest quaver. The pink mare was staring at her wide eyed though, her face pallid once more.
“You are my mother Cadance, in every way that matters. It doesn’t matter if you’re not related to me. You were there, you were real. I was just too stupid to see it.”
Cadance’s eyes watered as she stood for a long moment, looking at the unicorn. Then, with a wordless cry, she wrapped her hooves around Twilight’s smaller form, and gave her a warm, caring, crushing hug.
“Yes. Just as you were.” The deep voice rumbled, and Twilight lifted her head from the pink shoulder, looking at the pair of ancient creatures nearby. The dragon’s eyes flashed with something interested, amused, and utterly alien to her, though it wasn’t a threatening look. Princess Celestia was still panting lightly, as though she had only just pulled from a long dive, and the thrill of danger was still coursing through her body.
The lavender eyes were locked on the two, and something flickered across the long, kind face. Then it was gone, and the white pony smiled at them. Turning to her guest, Princess Celestia bowed her head. “Spike, if you would please join us. Now that the formalities are dispensed with, would you please assume a less... impressive form?”
“I will only promise that it shall be smaller, youngling.” The amused growl was accompanied by a snort. “Whether it is impressive is beyond even my control.”
The dragon grinned, and flares of green and purple light began to stream forth from its scales, bathing everypony in their light. The light intensified steadily as the overwhelming sense of magical power became something Twilight could taste, heavy and sweet on her tongue. Then it dimmed for a moment, the light pulled back in to form a sheath of opaque swirling energy around the humongous body in a dome.
The dome too began to brighten and a webwork of cracks formed in the skin of the material. Soom, Twilight couldn’t tell where the green light began and where the purple ended, both melding into a pure, white light. The golden cracks spidered around more of the protective covering, before stopping, a beautiful tracery of dimmer light shining through the wall of white.
The dome created an audible hum in the air, along with the sizzling crackle of the lightening that danced along its surface. The scent of ozone surrounded them all, horribly cloying and sharp, only occasionally broken by the charred smell where a stray bolt of lightning would arc to the ground, searing the grass to less than ashes in an instant.
That’s not possible. Twilight’s thought’s were calm, detatched, even as her body shuddered in pure reaction to the power before her. Not even the Princess’ magic is strong enough to become a physical sensation, not unless that was her intention. This is merely the excess power of the spell emptying itself into the environment.
The hum grew louder for the briefest moment, and Twilight saw something shift within the light. The form was odd, distorted by the burning brightness. It had four limbs, but they all seemed wrong. They were too long, and far too straight to be the limbs of a pony. Hair rippled out from behind its head, but there it stopped, seeming to be a mane shorn away once it passed the nape of the neck. The thing had odd, flat protrusions from the end of each limb, too thin to be hooves, but seeming to serve the same purpose.
Then the light shifted once more, and the hum was replaced by a sensation of intense pressure against every square inch of Twilight’s body, pressing on her with an uncomfortable, but not painful, force. She could hear a sound more like breaking glass than anything, though it was resonant and full, rather than a sharp crackling pop, and the light and pressure vanished.
Spike was standing in the center of a charred circle almost five hundred feet wide, a lazy smile stretching reptilian lips. Green eyes flickered around the group, and the alien orbs fixed on Twilight for a moment.
“Do not concern yourself. Most even among my own kind think me a male. Though I am flattered that you find me attractive. Now, Celestia, I believe you have a populace to settle?”
“Yes, thank you for being less obviously dangerous at least.” The Princess sighed, and rolled her eyes as the dragoness stretched gracefully. “I would be most grateful if you didn’t seduce my subjects.”
“Oh Celestia, you really have become a stick in the mud. Why, I seem to remember a certain filly who would not rest until I agreed to compete with her.” Spike spoke easily across the distance, breaking into a loping run. “What was that about again?”
Twilight and Cadance both turned to look at the Princess, too see something utterly new. The Princess, the ancient, wise mare who was never discomfitted, was blushing. Rather becomingly, as the delicate pink tinged her white features, but nonetheless, she was blushing. She took an unconscious step in place, while her wings rustled at her sides.
“Yes, well. I must be off. I will see you at dinner Twilight?” Without waiting for a reply, the Princess leapt into the air, her great white wings surging forth, propelling her swiftly through the air.
“She and I had a little contest some time ago.”
Twilight jumped, her heart in the throat, and found Spike behind her. The dragon’s clawed feet had been soundless on the soft grass, and the feline grace of her legs had let her simply come to a stop from her run in perfect silence. She wasn’t even breathing hard, though she had just run almost five hundred feet in only a few moments.
“She believed that she could seduce more of her mother’s guards than I. It really wasn’t much of a contest, as not only was she their charge, but she was also a scrawny, leggy thing. But then, fillies never do think that they are fallible.”
Twilight started, and turned. Now, face to face with the ferocious predator come pony, Twilight was once more struck by how attractive she was. The dragoness had reformed herself into something that looked much like a pony, though she still had the aura of danger and feral power about her.
The body Spike had created was tall, with smooth muscles flowing along the svelte, scaled hide. Nearly as tall as one of the Princesses, Spike had a lean build like that of a hunting cat, and her muzzle came down to a soft tapering point. On the end of the conical mouth were the dragons lips, most of her face covered once again with those small scales, though now they were almost invisible. Two slits above her mouth gave Twilight a brief glance of pink flesh as the dragon’s nostrils expanded with a breath, before being released in a small chuckle.
“Again, I must thank you for your kind sentiments.” She flashed Twilight a dazzling smile, and the unicorn shuddered at the sight of the two inch fangs hanging from the roof of the dragons mouth. In the instant they were visible, Twilight saw beads of murky venom coating the protrusions, before a slender tongue flicked out, wiping them away.
“Ahem,” Cadance cleared her throat loudly, and Twilight shook herself, pulling herself away from the dragon. “I believe the Princess would like us to meet her in the Heart once she has calmed everypony down. If we start back now, detouring through the maze would take us to the Dining Hall at just about supper time, wouldn’t you say Twilight?”
Cadance turned away, flicking Twilight in the nose with her tail. Her head turned, looking back over her shoulder and Twilight saw her friend grin evilly, before taking off at a full gallop.
“Shall I catch her?” Spike asked, stretching out her leathery green wings. With their armor of purple scales, the batlike wings came down with a rush of wind. Twilight shook her head though, grinning.
“I’d like to do it myself.”