//------------------------------//
// Chapter 1: Home Sweet Home? 
// Story: Becoming a Monster 
// by Telgin 
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I haven't had many chances to tell this story over my unnaturally long life.  There are so few to listen that I once considered recording it in writing somewhere, as if one day someone would stumble by it.  Someone who would read it and understand, if not really care.  When you've been through what I have and become what I am, you begin to wonder if there is anyone in existence who cares.  Centuries ago I came to accept that no, there weren't.  There were definitely those who knew the story, but none who cared.

Imagine my surprise then when you, little one, asked me to tell you my story.  You might be surprised to learn that of your brothers and sisters, perhaps only five have ever asked this of me before.  But fear not, for you, I will tell you everything you wish to know.

There are many points where I could begin, but one day stands out particularly strongly in my mind.  The days before it I do not remember well, and the events are of little relevance.

So, sit, and listen well while I take us back to centuries gone.  Four hundred fourteen years ago, to be exact.







The day was turning out to be unremarkable, which was precisely how I preferred my days.  I was at home relaxing and enjoying one of my favorite pastimes: paging through one of my spell books and practicing a few of the simpler ones.  There were few spells in the books that I hadn't mastered years ago, but it gave me something to do and kept my skills sharp.

I flicked a claw through the air, tracing a faintly glowing orange trail as I did.  One twist of the wrist and a wall of flame would erupt around me, but I held it.  I always enjoyed the flashy spells, even if I never admitted it.  There's a primal joy in feeling the mana rush through you to create a fantastic display of light and power; an almost addicting sensation that you never quite grow out of, no matter how many times you do it or how old you grow.

But, as it was, I was at home and didn't want to set our possessions alight.  Or my brother, for that matter.  I held the spell a few moments more, letting the extra light flicker across the rough stone surfaces of our cave.  The glow seemed to cast thousands of harsh shadows in the shallow irregularities in the walls, making everything feel for all the world that much darker.  I snuffed the spell and flipped to the next page, recognizing the spell as one intended to keep someone warm in bitter cold.

To my left, my brother Zeal was sleeping on his cot.  Well, I say he was sleeping, but a more accurate description would be that he was tangled in it, letting his tail hang free while he rested atop his wings in what looked like an extremely uncomfortable if not outright painful position.  The grubby sheet he'd been using for a cover was dangling from the tip of his tail, resting in a large twisted mound on the floor.  Spring was nearly upon us, and it was getting uncomfortably warm to sleep under the sheets.  At least he wasn't snoring.

I thumbed through the spell book, beginning to recall its contents and realizing there wasn't much else of interest in it.  I set it atop a stack of similar books next to my own cot and studied the room.  Unlike most of my siblings, I kept my belongings in something approaching a semblance of order despite the fact that I had a collection that would make most quite envious.  I reclined  and concentrated on a stack of books at the far end of the cot, lifting the top book with a veil of unseen magic.

I took the book in my hands and frowned.  The original bright cover was marred by a fine film of dust, a testament to how long it had been since I'd looked through it.  I wiped it with my hand, restoring most of the vibrant colors of fruits and vegetables depicted.  This was a book I had not mastered yet.  There were dozens of spells inside I hadn't had but the tiniest bit of success with.  Spells that could convert a rock into the tastiest apple you had ever eaten.  Or reverse the ravages of time to turn moldy and stale bread fresh.  It seemed silly and almost infuriating that I could teleport, and I could not get the spells of a chef to work.  

Yet, I'd have given half of the trivial spells I knew to learn them.  As a draconequus, food wasn't just a stroll down the street away.  Not like it was for the ponies and the griffons.  My siblings and I ate what we could scavenge, and it often wasn't particularly good tasting or even good for us to eat.  If I could learn more from this book, that problem would vanish in a flash of magic.

As it was, instead we often resorted to less savory means of acquiring food.  I felt my frown tighten as I flipped the page.  That was probably where my brother Antic and sister Revelry were right now.  No matter how many times I told them not to, they would go off looking for ponies or griffons when they were supposed to be just scavenging.  Then they would return with as much as they could carry, beaming and extolling the value of the things they had stolen.  They were always thinking of now, not later.  One day it was going to come back to haunt us.

I spent some time studying the text inside the book, but for how long I had no idea.  As usual time seemed to grow muddy while I read it, lost as I was in the symbols.  I understood them.  The symbols were clear to me, and I knew how the spells worked, but I could not force the magic to coalesce and do my bidding.

I levitated a pebble up to eye level and worked the ritual to transform it into a ball of bread.  Or at least I thought that's what the book said it should become.  The pebble flickered an array of colors and warped about oddly, but when the magic faded it was unchanged.  Not surprising.  I squinted back at the book and reread the description of the spell.  I was sure that's what it said.  Perhaps when Antic returned he could confirm it.

Whenever that would be.  After a few more tries with no more success, I put the pebble and spell book away and rolled over to face the wall.  He and Revelry would be back when they got back.

And maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't disappoint me.







I felt like I had just closed my eyes when I heard their excited voices echoing from the passage leading up to the surface.  Whatever they were saying was drowned out in the wash, but I knew they must have found something impressive from their tone.  I rolled my eyes and flipped over to face the entrance, waiting to see how badly I was going to have to scold them.

“Guess who's home?” Zeal grumbled, cracking his eyes.

Revelry was the first inside, swooping down the hallway without setting hoof nor claw on a single step.  She hovered in the center of the room, grinning just like I imagined and holding three wooden crates in her arms that looked five times too heavy for her to carry.  I snorted.  She knew why.

“Hey, don't start that Cantrip,” she began, lowering her prize to the floor before descending herself.  “It's not what you think.”

“Do tell.”

“Zeal, Cantrip, look what we found!” Antic cheered as he joined us.  “The ponies just left this stuff lying around on the trail down south.  Not a single pony in sight.”

“Then how do you know it belonged to the ponies?  If you didn't see any?” I asked.  They weren't above telling me what I wanted to hear.

He shrugged.  “Hoof prints.”

Revelry flicked the top from a crate and began rifling through it.  “Something attacked a caravan it looks like.  The ponies scattered and left all of this for us to take.”

Zeal stretched and rose into the air.  “Good, maybe whoever did it will make them forget about us.”  He settled next to her.  “What did you find?”

She raised her hands to present open palms to me and Zeal.  “Stand back, and behold.”  That got my attention, which quickly vanished when a small box of some kind of pony food sprung from the crate, held aloft by her magic.  I reached out and plucked it from her magical grasp with my own.  The box looked simple enough.  Based on the cover there were a lot of circular wafers of some sort inside.  What could possibly be so interesting about this?

Antic hopped over and ran his claw under the big word plastered across the top.  “C-r-a-c-k-e-r-s,” he spelled out to me, smiling wide enough I thought his face wouldn't be able to contain his mouth.  “Try one!”

“Crackers?” I asked, picking one from inside.  It didn't have much of a scent, and didn't look very impressive.  I slipped it into my mouth, and I entered heaven.  It was a bit too salty, but it melted into a wonderful buttery lump on my tongue.  I'd never tasted anything so inviting... so comforting.  I immediately shoved three more into my mouth, reliving the mild euphoria.

“This is amazing...” Zeal said in mild disbelief and with his mouth half full of crackers.  “What else did you find?”

Revelry smirked and propped against a crate.  “See?  Didn't I tell you?  Oh, but I've got a special present for you!”  She disappeared into the box and emerged proudly holding something metallic above her head.  A piece of armor for a pony.

“Oh, this...”  Zeal took it in his claws and wasted not a second dropping it onto his head.  It was comically oversized for him, but the shape was surprisingly similar enough.  “A chanfron.  From one of the guards?” he asked, removing it and scrutinizing it from every angle.

“Maybe?  It was lying on the ground.”  She smirked again.  “Looks good on you, maybe you can get Cantrip to shrink it to fit?”

“I can try,” I said, trying to dredge up the spell from memory.  I'd probably need to find the book for that one.

Antic floated up onto the cot next to me and flashed me an apologizing frown.  “Sorry, nothing special for you.  They didn't have any spell books or anything like that.”  Lost in the joy of crackers, the thought hadn't even crossed my mind, and I told him as much.  He smiled sheepishly and laid back against magical nothingness to watch Revelry dig everything else out of the crates and do the worst job imaginable trying to organize it all.  “I figure we've got a week's worth of food in there.  Maybe more if we ration it.”  He cut his eyes to me.  “There was a bit more left at the wreckage.  Do... you think we should go back and get it?”

I let that simmer for a moment.  When I realized that Revelry was no longer churning through her pile I looked up.  All three of them were staring at me.  Oh, sure, now they cared what my opinion was.  I hated to leave the possibility of free supplies lying around, but if we went back we'd risk being spotted there.  I groaned and nodded.  “We probably should.  If all four of us go it's going to be too risky though.”

Zeal stood tall and said to Revelry, “You and Antic should finish here.  Cantrip and I can handle this.”  Which worked for me.  I trusted Zeal for this more anyway.







I spent an extra moment inspecting the illusion guarding the entrance to our home before we left.  Antic had done a good job on the spell, as he usually did, but I didn't want to risk it failing while we were away.  It seemed strong enough, so I left it alone and started off toward the southern valley with Zeal at my side.

We stayed close to the mountainside as we traveled along.  It was overcast that afternoon, which gave us an advantage.  Zeal's scales had an earthy undertone, so in the most dire of situations he could find a pile of rocks or some scrub to hide near and maybe get lucky enough for a pegasus to miss him.  My gray scales wouldn't be so useful, but in a shaded spot I could blend in pretty well.  That was all assuming our magic didn't save us, which it so far hadn't failed to do.

The caravan turned out to be right where it was supposed to be.  A train of four wagons was sitting abandoned down in the bottom of the valley.  The first wagon was canted and missing a wheel, but from there I couldn't really begin to guess what happened.  At least there were no ponies, griffons or anything else bigger than an insect around.  The only signs that anything had been here were the hoof prints marking the trail up ahead, heading away from our home.  That was good.

“Looks safe,” Zeal whispered into my ear before crouching at the edge of the cliff and peering into the valley.  That was the first thing he'd said since we left, and was one more reason I was glad to have him with me.  He understood how to be quiet and out of the way when he needed to be.

I spread my wings and scanned our surroundings one last time before taking to the air and gliding down.  I could teleport both of us down of course, but that made a big flash and a lot of noise.  As long as we didn't stray far from the wall of the canyon we'd be pretty hard to spot.

Up close, the fate of the caravan was a bit more obvious.  There weren't any weapon marks on anything that I could see, but the front axle on the first wagon was splintered badly.  It had probably just broken on the unforgiving rocky terrain, leaving the ponies stranded.  From the number of tracks I saw there were a lot more wagons at one point, and based on just how little was left in these wagons the ponies must have taken everything they could and moved on.

“Not much left,” Zeal muttered, hopping up onto the nearest cart and lifting a tarp.

“They probably got everything worth taking,” I agreed.  I climbed onto the wagon next to him and started examining the boxes and barrels left behind.  The barrels were interesting, and I had a vague idea of what they contained even if I couldn't read the labels.  With a bit of effort and liberal application of my claws on the seal I managed to pop the lid open and took a sniff.  Just water.  That explained why Revelry hadn't hauled it back home at least, and why I was leaving it too.  Water was perhaps the one thing we never really had to worry about since all four of us could purify any from the stream down the path.

“Huh,” Zeal grunted.  He pried the lid from a crate and pulled out a bolt of cloth for me to see.  “A lot of this here.”

My ears perked up and I made some little motion with my hand.  “Oh, set that one aside.  I'd love to have some new sheets.”  I felt a smile edge onto my face.  Maybe if we found some feathers we could even make some pillows!  After we had to abandon our last home and I lost my pillow, I'd never slept the same.

Zeal popped open another box and pulled out a handful of something white and fluffy.  “Uh...”

Cotton.  “Oh, yes!  Set that aside too.”  New bedsheets and pillows?  This was already worth the trip out here.  Of course Antic and Revelry got the food first, but this was great stuff.  The boxes on this wagon turned out to be empty, but at this point I didn't care if we found anything else.  There was an extra large wooden crate on the last wagon in the train, and I set off to check it.  It was big enough that I could have fit inside, and predictably the lid was too heavy for me to dislodge with muscle alone.  When you have magic though, such things are a lot less of a problem.

The crate turned out to contain a lot of smaller boxes.  A box of boxes.  Ponies were silly creatures.  I crawled inside, finding it to be surprisingly spacious even with all of the smaller boxes.  The contents were varied but universally worthless.  Lots of figurines or trinkets or other little crafts that the ponies made and saw value in.  Sure, they were interesting to look at, but what good were they going to do us?

I was getting ready to pop the lid on the sixth or seventh one when I heard voices outside.  “Careful, I think I saw something.  Looks like they were attacked.”

I should have known better, but the only thing I could think to do at the time was to bolt up and take a look outside of what I was now feeling was a wooden prison.  Right into the eyes of a yellow feathered griffon.  Both of us let out startled cries and staggered away from the other.  She flared her wings and drew a sword, and I realized she was wearing a helmet and breastplate made of bronze.  For my part, I simply bumbled backward into the side of the crate.  The impact dazed me and I fell into a panic.

“Natasha, get down!” a male shouted from above.  I looked up just in time to see a brown feathered griffon in the same armor drawing a bow and aiming it right at me.  Now I was really in a panic.  My heart stopped as I stared at the metal tip of the arrow aimed at my face.

I threw my arm up and turned away as the whistling of an arrow tearing through the air met my ears.  Instead of the stab of pain I was expecting, I heard the arrow thump against something.  I cracked my eyes and let out a gasp when I saw it hovering a hair's width from my nose, suspended in the swirling light of a magical shield.  But... how...

I never finished the thought.  My left wing exploded in pain and snapped back.  The panic surged when I realized it was pinned to the wooden wall behind me, and my instinctive twists to free myself only sent more waves of shock and agony through my side.  I saw the first arrow at my hooves and realized the shield collapsed when the second struck it.  I had no time to think, only to act.  The world shifted nauseatingly as I teleported outside subconsciously.

I ended the teleport upside down and somewhere in the air.  The fall was brief but enough to knock the wind out of me and daze me all over again.  I gasped for air and stumbled to my hooves, feeling another jolt in my wing.  The arrow came with me!

The bow creaked again as it was drawn taut, and I heard a griffon beating its wings to take to the air.  What should I do?  I whipped my head around in time for another arrow to splinter against a magical shield instead of drill into my chest.  “Cantrip!” Zeal shouted to my side.  “Move!”  That snapped me out of my stupor in time to see the female griffon arcing toward me with her sword drawn back.  The world lurched again and I found myself in a heap at Zeal's hooves.

“Come on!” he shouted, pulling me up.

I felt the faint gust of another arrow zipping by and threw my arms around him.  An instant later we were hurled in a direction I didn't know existed, landing in a clearing... somewhere.  I rolled off of Zeal onto my back, panting with exhaustion and trying to ignore the throbbing and burning in my side and wing.  We were at the top of the canyon again!  We made it!  But we weren't safe yet, griffons could fly, and they'd surely find us soon.  I rocked to my hooves, feeling for all the world like I'd run for hours without a break.

I liked the flashy spells, but that didn't mean I could just sling them left and right.

And now I had no idea how we would escape.  All of the mana in my body was gone.  My wing was hurt.  I was so exhausted and out of breath I couldn't fly anyway.  If the griffons flew up here I was dead.

It was Zeal's turn to wrap his arms around me, and into the air we soared.







The trip back was one of the most nerve wracking experiences of my life.  Antic and Revelry had to deal with losing pursuers far more frequently than Zeal, and he had dealt with it far more than I had.  With the pain of a torn wing and the fear of griffons waiting in ambush all around us, I was doing little more than clinging to my brother for the first third of the trip home.  To his credit, he knew precisely what to do without my help anyway.  We stopped at least five times to wait and watch for followers and took an indirect path.  Odds were that the griffons didn't care enough about us to go through the trouble of tracking us through that, so by the time we got home I had relaxed for the most part.  Disaster averted.

I was now sitting deep inside the cave we called home, holding my wounded wing outstretched while I examined it with a hand mirror.  Probably a griffon mirror, I mused.  Ponies wouldn't have had a lot of use for a mirror with a handle on it like this.

Antic and Revelry were busy pestering Zeal about what happened, which got them out of my hair for the moment.  We only had one storage room in the cave, but it was enough to get a bit of privacy while I checked myself over.  All of the miscellaneous things we had collected over the past few years was packed away or organized in piles against the cave walls all the way to the ceiling.  It was cramped and not the best place to treat a wound, but it would have to do.  I flexed the first joint of my wing and winced.  The arrow had torn neatly through the membrane and missed the digits, but it somehow still managed to hurt and bleed a downright astonishing amount.  The bleeding stopped well before we got here, but it had taken a few minutes to scrub the dried mess from my scales.  The pain was now mostly a dull throb and ache, but each twist led to another jolt.

I slumped and popped a cracker into my mouth.  It helped get my mind off of what happened, but that wasn't going to make me completely forget almost being killed.  If Zeal hadn't been there with his shield, I would have died.  I had been shot at by griffons and ponies before, but never so close and personal.  I'd never been hit either.  The look on their eyes when they readied their weapons... how for that moment they wanted nothing more than for me to be dead... that wasn't something I'd forget soon.  I gobbled another cracker.

“You okay?” my sister asked from behind me.  I confirmed that I was, and she floated into the room anyway.  She nestled into a sitting position next to me on my injured side.  “You sure?”

“Just a cut on my wing, I'll live,” I answered truthfully.

She leaned in annoyingly close to get a look at my wing and sucked in her breath.  “Ow, I know that hurts.  I've got something that will help with that, if you want it.  And, ah, anything else that might be hurting.”

I sighed and managed to contain half of the eye roll that followed.  Sure enough, a bottle floated from behind us and settled next to my hand, sporting a vibrant label with half a dozen fruits and pony words to the effect of it containing berries.  So, she found some after all.  I wasn't really surprised since most of the caravans carried as much alcohol as they could.  My first instinct was to pour it out, but I settled on taking a long drink.  That wouldn't annoy her as much and it was that much less she'd drink.  And to be fair it would take the edge off more than the crackers, if for no reason other than it feeling like I was drinking acid.

She grinned.  “There you go, that'll help in a minute.”  She looked back at my wing.  “So, are you going to get Fealty to look at that for you?”

I shook my head.  “No.  No need to bother him over something this trivial.”  I raised a hand to cover the rip and concentrated.  Healing magic was hard to do and was something I thankfully hadn't had many opportunities to practice.  Something this simple was within my ability however, now that my magic had recovered partially.  A dull golden glow enveloped my hand and the pain began to vanish.

Revelry's eyes widened.  “Wow, did he teach you that?”

“Not quite.  He let me borrow one of his spell books,” I explained.  I held the mirror back up and grimaced.  The cut left a dark spiderweb of a scar leading down to the edge of my wing.  Fealty wouldn't have left a scar, but at least the pain was gone.

“Ah, I see.”  Revelry retrieved the bottle of wine with her magic and cupped it in her hands.  She stood and placed a hand on my shoulder.  “Well,  if you're hungry I put some dinner together for us.  I found some cheese in one of the boxes.”

I nodded and cracked a tiny smile.  “In a minute.”  First, I had to figure out what pile I'd dug this mirror out of...