//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 – "I am writing to tell you..." // Story: Fading Away // by Prane //------------------------------// What would you do if someone especially dear to your heart was in peril? Again, the answer is quite simple, because no matter how reasoned your way of life was, you would abandon it momentarily to do what it feels right. Allowing your emotions to guide you – but never leaving them in charge – is sometimes the best solution, as they fuel us with necessary motivation and determination. And although many have failed on this path, if you could just rise above your grief and prejudice of the past, you would succeed. You would traverse beyond yourself, paying little attention to needs and beliefs of your own, but devoting entirely to making a change in that special someone’s life. And that’s exactly what Spike the Dragon did. * * * Saying that Spike regretted running away for such a long time would be an understatement of the century. Of course, he had good reasons to do so back then – or so he supposed – but now, from the perspective of time irrevocably lost and important events missed, he had to admit it was really thoughtless of him, if not simply foolish. Because he didn’t posses anything of value, Spike didn’t hesitate to leave the volcanic hideout and go with Twilight, bringing only a woven sack with him. They wandered for several hours, hardly exchanging any word, as Spike apparently believed that reading the letter from Rarity over and over again would be enough to fill the void. They came closer to a town, or rather a village, though neither of these two words could fully reflect the view from a gravel-black hill on which Twilight and Spike were standing. ‘End of the line’, now that would be much more adequate, not only because it was actually the last station of the Equestrian railroad network, but also because there was no justifiable reason to go further south. With only a few poorly-constructed huts surrounding the station, the settlement of Forsaken End – which was by far the most suitable name for a place like that – was a perfect destination for those who wanted to leave their questionable past behind. “Spike? Spike, talk to me, please!” And never turn back. “Are you for real?” Spike said with reproach. “Tell me, did you enjoy reading my correspondence over the years?” “I have never read a single one,” Twilight raised a bare, dusty hoof, refuting the accusation. “Those few which I brought with me were–” “So there’s more?” Spike didn’t let her finish, unaware that his thin, split at the end tongue was sticking outside his jaw. He reached for Twilight’s bag. “Give me that!” “No, unless you talk to me!” she avoided Spike’s greedy grasp. “Why are you acting like this? I refuse to believe that you’re one of those so-called ‘freedom fighters’ rallying against the Dragon Registration Decree, so what is it? Are you still blaming me for Kryvarost’s death?” Oh, Twilight really did hit a nerve with that one. Ambassador Kryvarost was a venerable golden dragon Twilight and Spike had met during the Equestrian-Draconian diplomatic summit about seven years ago. Respected and widely recognized by the majority of the Dragon Dominion inhabitants, Kryvarost did not only come at the invitation of the pony kind representative, which was a rare enough courtesy amongst the dragons, but also managed to spare some of his time for Spike and Spike only. In a matter of days, Spike learned more about his race, heritage and dragon culture than he did over his whole life in Canterlot and Ponyville – and that’s including the encounter with those petty dragons living in the southern Badlands, who had not an ounce of dignity. Meeting Kryvarost changed his life, as even Spike’s little dragon quest during the Great Dragon Migration was nothing compared to finding a father-mentor figure he never had… But Kryvarost died during the summit. And with him, Spike’s dream of becoming a dragon strong both in body and in spirit. “Give. Me. Your. Bag.” Spike drawled through a clashed set of teeth. “I will not.” “Fine. I’ll take it myself.” With a resounding roar, Spike assaulted Twilight and pushed her down the rocky hill, only to follow her with his sharp claws unsheathed a second later. The mare tumbled, but managed to recover and quickly spread her feathery wings, just in time to avoid an avalanche of gravel raised by Spike’s reckless charge. She flew down and landed gracefully on the steady ground, staring sadly at the bloodthirsty dragon rampaging from above. To the very last second she was hoping that Spike would come to senses and eventually stop, but when he got too close, she could only breathe a sigh of remorse. Twilight Sparkle’s mane became radiant, turning into bright shades of mulberry and sapphire blue, with blinding waves of arcane energy flowing down each hair. Her mane and tail seemed to be opposing the gravity on their own now, as if she was fully immersed in water, and her pointy horn got surrounded by a stormy, vivid magenta mist. In the blink of an energy-filled eye, Spike’s charge was brought to a stop, and he found himself pressed to the ground with an outstanding force. “There was NOTHING I could have done to save the dragon ambassador Kryvarost!” Twilight spoke in a voice Spike would remember forever. She didn’t sound like a simple librarian mare from a relatively unimportant Ponyville. No, that was the voice of a princess: formidable, imperious, royal. Just as the alicorn keeping Spike’s face dipped in harsh gravel. “Rarity’s sole wish was to see her Spike, and while there is nothing I wouldn’t do for one of my friends, I’m having second thoughts right now!” Twilight continued, her voice booming just a little less. “Now are you her Spike… or are you not?” To tell the truth, he didn’t really know. He didn’t know whether Spike that Rarity called for still existed. But he didn’t like the idea of having his back broken or being swallowed by the ground, either. As reluctant as he was, Spike knew that Twilight had a point. Though he wouldn’t admit that… just yet. “I guess I am,” he mumbled, and Twilight ended the spell. Spike straightened up, which turned out to be surprisingly easy now that the bone-crushing force was gone. He started picking out obsidian pieces from between his scales. “Ugh, new trick?” “Remember Trixie? It’s her variation on the Atmosphere Spell,” Twilight replied, being her usual self back again. She turned around. “Come on, the station’s nearby.” Indeed it was. A few minutes later they were standing at a pretty desolated railway station, disturbed by no other passengers, because there were none. It seemed that Forsaken End really was a place with no return, or perhaps no one wanted to travel alongside a dragon. “I’ll get us tickets to Equestria,” Twilight said, checking a train schedule marked by numerous crimson stains. “We’re lucky. It seems we have to wait for about an hour, so take this.” She took another magically-conserved envelope from her bag and gave it to Spike. It was very similar in both color and style, so he opened it with delicacy and care you would not expect from a dragon who was prepared to open your arteries just a while ago. Dear Spikey-Wikey, Happy birthday to you! It is a real shame that we haven’t had a chance to celebrate them properly. I was told that you left shortly after you and Twilight returned from the Dragon Dominion, and you’re currently trying to find your own place? I heard what happened. I am not writing to judge you – that dragon ambassador’s death was a blow, and as far as I know, the Princesses are still trying to calm the dragons in a diplomatic way. I also understand that it was a very personal loss for you, and I am sorry for that. That is all. I suppose you didn’t get any of my previous letters, therefore I'd like to convey my best wishes once more. You know, in case you ever wanted to talk by a cup of tea, you are always welcome at the Carousel Boutique. Hope to see you soon! Yours, Rarity. Minutes were passing slowly, allowing Spike to ponder upon many things. He got so engrossed in the words of comfort he received much too late, to his own demise, that he couldn’t really tell how long was he sitting on a station’s warped wooden bench. In fact, he didn’t even remember sitting there in the first place. Spike looked around, spotting Twilight sitting on a similar bench. She kept a proper distance this time – close enough not to be mistaken for some random traveler, but not too close to make him feel uncomfortable. And although they were sitting on two different benches, they could both feel a spark of heart-warming closeness which they had lost many years ago. Clackety-clackety, cho-chooo! The whistle of an upcoming train was heard in the distance. It got louder in time, and when the train finally arrived, Spike took a deep breath and stood up. It was high time for him to return to Equestria. The only place he could call… home.