When you're a baby dragon and you aren't invited to the Equestrian Games, it can get kinda boring. You can only take so many bubble baths and reshelf the books six times or so before life starts to lose it's flavor, right? Well, today Spike's life had been ALL about flavor.

And when you're a total glutton for gems and it starts snowing stone sugar, you're wandering around the house with mouth open, drooling. Spike had woken up this morning to a strangely delicious smell in the air, and every breath he sucked in had the faint tang of gems. Was it turquoise? Maybe someone was cooking up some sapphire souffle? A watermelon tourmaline cake? It was -everywhere-. He could taste it spicing up his breakfast, wafting in on the breeze when he opened a window, the delicate tang on the tip of his claws when he licked one and waved it around. Dusting the shelves had been an exercise in culinary torture.

Second breakfast. Definitely time for a second breakfast, those corn flakes had tasted like lapis lazuli salad!

Meanwhile, the Cutie Mark Crusaders charged bravely to the aid of Rainbow Dash. OK, Scootaloo charged. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle jumped off the wagon as it lurched into the bushes and launched for the trees.

The much-lightened load sped with suicidal intent at it's target, and Scootaloo's full-force impact with the tree could be heard for over a quarter-mile, the helmet smacking into the trunk with a hollow *THUD*.

Dark fluids squirted across the bark, dripping down to be soaked by the roots. Scootaloo's body, pancaked against the unyielding wood slid to the ground- a splatter mark marking the final blow. Horrified, the two other members of the team rushed forwards to witness Scootaloo's senseless, wasteful act.

Looking up at the sky as Apple Bloom peeled the slightly dented helmet off, Scootaloo gasped out a few desperate words as the trees whirled and her chest grew sticky.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!", said the pegasus, and passed out from her wounds (or just closed her eyes in embarrassment, but we'll never tell). Solemnly, the two remaining ponies loaded Scootaloo's limp form in the somewhat abused wagon. As Apple Bloom slowly wheeled the scooter and it's cargo back to the path, she yelled out to the distant blue blur:

"Ah'm sorry we mighta ruined yer nap! We're gonna go git lunch now, so iffen ya want some vittles, we'll see y'all at Sweet Apple Acres!" With that, the rescue team began the long trek home, bearing their valiantly wounded behind them.

The still-unconscious unicorn in his perch wasn't in any condition to wave goodbye, sadly enough.

On the far side of Ponyville, a young pinto colt waited at the train station, his hooves tapping out a staccato beat as he paced. Two empty saddlebags gaped on his flanks, blazoned with "Canterlot Chronicle". The morning edition was late! How was a proper gentlecolt-in-training going to pay for his muffins and milk if the dot-dot-dashed delivery was only early for lunch? He should have been on his rounds hours ago!

The distant whooooooooo of an incoming train pulled Pipsqueak from his musings as it approached at a speed that could only be described as "going for the land record". With a screech, the engine reached the edge of the station, sparks flying from it's brakes as the engineer traded metal for stopping time, cars pushing against the back end as if eager to keep going.

Train doors slammed open as packages and passengers were thrown out with a total disregard for protocol, shipping labels, or fragility.

"I say!" was all Pip managed to get out before a thick bundle of newspapers pinned him to the platform.

The handler looked briefly apologetic as he mouthed package after package onto the planks. "Sorry, kid! *mmf* They gots us runnin' triple time *mmf* to Fillydelphia. Mil-i-tary emergency, no passengers, no cargo! *mmf* No time means double time for me!"

Swinging one last package out the sliding door, the grey earth pony shoved the open car door with a hoof, and the *clang* was matched down the line as car after car shut. The train leaped forward in a hiss of steam, only interrupted by a conductor heaving a last piece of luggage as the caboose passed by. Despite their rough treatment, the passengers seemed unoffended by the swift exit, if not outright relieved to be off the train.

"They said they needed the train for a Guard regiment, Daisychain? Why, we saw an entire flight of pegasi going north over our heads, armed to the teeth!"

"~I~ heard Princess Celestia herself was there. Maybe it's another parasprite swarm?"

"It couldn't be part of all that Crystal Empire business, could it? That was horrible."

Pip managed to shove the stack of papers (twice as large as usual, he noticed) off his back to look at the headline.

SOMBRA ATTACKS EQUESTRIAN GAMES, EMPIRE EVACUATED!

PRINCESS SPARKLE MISSING, CITIZENS FLEE FROM MONSTER ATTACK!

A blurry picture of the Empire in flames covered most of the rest of the front page. Pipsqueak gasped.

"Today is going to be a right cracker!", went through his mind. Forget the usual route. This called for the most drastic of measures!

With his saddlebags stuffed to the limit and the rest balanced precariously on his back, Pip left a widening wedge of dust in the air as he galloped for the town square, his paper bombshell ready to explode.

"SPECIAL EDITION, READ ALL ABOUT IT! CANTERLOT CHRONICLE REPORTS THE RETURN OF KING SOMBRA!", bellowed the colt for all he was worth. Ponies gathered as the newspony skidded to a halt by the fountain, flinging copies left and right as bits flew his way and the massive stack dwindled.

One of the copies reached Big McIntosh, placidly selling out of his cart.. His lips moved briefly as they sounded out the headline, then the line beneath.

Ponies scattered as a mad stallion rampaged down the street in the direction of the Ponyville Library, the remnants of a crate still stuck to the crazed creature's hoof.

Spike tried for one last mouthful of corn flakes. Sweet, sapphirelicious corn flakes. The emptied out box lay on it's side where the dragonling had shaken every piece out, then dipped his muzzle into the pile and devoured it with gusto. A stray flake vanished as he licked the soggy chunk off his chin.

Why hadn't Twilight told him corn flakes were this good with milk? Resembling a leather-covered ball more than a dragon, he leaned back on his tail and burped out a thin stream of smoke. If they were this good, imagine what -oatmeal- was like.

The front door ceased to exist as a red comet brushed through it, not really noticing there had happened to be a closed door in the way. The doorknob was the only survivor, rolling away to bump against a shelf- the rest didn't so much shatter as spontaneously transform into sawdust.

Big McIntosh spat the newspaper out onto Spike's empty bowl without further comment and casually shook a few bits of wood off his legs.

This time, the blast froze the scroll in mid-air and coated the ceiling with a thin layer of frost.

As the two extinguished the flames with leftovers from the milk pitcher, Spike could only wonder why his breath had gone haywire. Was it the corn flakes?

Many miles away, Princess Luna frowned as a third attempt to send a note to Ponyville failed, the scroll twisting itself into confetti rather than behaving properly. Putting her horn to quill for a fourth time, she wrote:

Princess Twilight is not feeling well, though I think with rest and time she will be fine. She and her friends caught a bad cold in the snow and are recovering- but need their rest. Please be so kind as to ask Applejack and Rarity's family to be ready to visit them in Canterlot, and I have already sent word to Twilight's parents as well. Please let the Cakes know that Pinkie Pie will be some time getting over this, and that Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash would likely enjoy a get-well card too.

I have sent chariots from Canterlot to receive any well-wishers and family- they should arrive soon after you read this. Be prepared and packed, Twilight asked me to remind you to bring your scale polish so her number one assistant looks his best.

"Deliver this to Princess Sparkle's ward, and him alone. Then return. You know nothing other than that the Princess and her friends are recovering from a chill and need their rest. The rest is Crown business alone, and should they ask, you only need say that I will be there to welcome them when they arrive. Are we clear?"

The ivory-coated pegasus saluted, tucked the scroll securely in a bag, and leaped off the roof of the train in a dusting of snow. Lining up the aerial map in his head, he began the long flight to Ponyville.

Below him, a boxcar-turned-hospital was filled with wounded guards- and a portion was curtained off with curtains borrowed from the VIP passengers. Inside the hidden area, Twilight and the others she had saved in her final teleport slowly thawed, wrapped in damp, hot towels. In more than one spot, those towels had colored red as frozen blood had melted away, and the ponies were covered in bandages and casts in many places that the towels did not.

Applejack's hindquarters were strapped tightly in place, immobilizing her body halfway back. The occasional switch of her tail marked life, but the pained twitches that came afterwards showed that clearly, the cowpony had taken more abuse than was healthy. Her hat rested on a table as a Guard medic applied a fresh dressing to her badly chilled eartips and checked that a steady flow of painkillers and sedative kept her as still and comfortable as the ride would allow.

Dirty Jobs and Squeaky Clean simply slept- Princess Luna's brief sojourn in their skulls smoothing the nightmarish shock of Sombra's mental assault into more peaceful dreams. Their still nameless pie-slinging companion dozed through a mirage of being named "Best in Sales" by Princess Cadence.

Fluttershy lay on a cot next door, sipping on a cup of hot tea and squeaking a little each time an orderly changed the towels covering her hooves and wings. Of the lot, she'd suffered the little physical harm- but even pegasi in deep snow for hours can catch a cold.

Orange Wedge had the next bed over, a line of stiches across a shaved patch of fur marking where the Guard surgeon had gone in to stabilize the broken ribs. Stained bits of white marked where cuts and punctures had been cleaned out, and the Guard pegasus wheezed as he slept. Of the lot, he was clearly the worst off.

Pinkie Pie hung suspended a few inches off the floor in a sling, soft terrycloth borrowed from a requisitioned bathrobe cushioning three of her badly scraped feet. The fourth was wrapped in bandages and occasionally wept yellow and red droplets onto the floor, but the orderlies still had to keep the earth pony from trying to use her sling as a "fun swing" to get enough height to peek above the curtains.

Rainbow Dash was mushmouthed from facial swelling and had lost a back tooth, but was doing her best to make the orderlies wish they could sedate the pegasus as she whipped her bandaged forehooves around in a fierce pantomine and garbled lines like "Yoush hould shee he offer guysh!". That she'd had enough Derpaset to leave most full-grown elephants woozy probably had something to do with it.

Rarity was more tranquil, even if she looked with distaste at the orange coating of antiseptic that covered one side- making her coat a harlequin's motley. She watched over Twilight's bed with an almost tranquil expression, marred by worry any time she heard a cry of pain or the hurried pace of a doctor nearby.

Though she had been well frosted and even frozen in a few places as she covered her friends with her wings, the alicorn lay on the floor of the car with suprisingly few signs of abuse- thick cushions and mattresses supporting her as comfortably as the chief surgeon knew to manage. "Strained wing and overmagicking", Soarnus Methodus had said- and the pegasus specialist had made sure the Princess was resting as comfortably as her other condition would allow. Her rather special condition.

Folded against the sides of the Princess, her wings sparkled like living amethysts- the feathers frozen into a crystalline mantle of precious stones.

The Night Of A Broken Heart

by WanderingPony

Chapter 3: Sunny Weather With A Chance Of Magicite Showers