//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: The Dragon // by GreenDragon //------------------------------// Spike sat in the library, staring at his hand for what seems like days, he’s exhausted every resource on everything that he even thought could be helpful. He even took the time to look through the fictional stories and comic books, only to end up right where he started. Though there was one that almost seemed helpful, The Hulk, but his transformation wasn’t triggered by anger or he’d’ve transformed numerous other times, including the rage he went through while trying to transform again. So now, all he could do was think to himself, trying to focus on what he was doing when it happened. That’s when the clock chimed 6 o’clock, time to start cooking dinner. He got up, checked once more in case there are any customers, strolled into the kitchen and prepared a quick meal, calling Twilight down soon after he finished. It’s always a simple diner, just some beef, potatos, and a salad, usually without a single word between them, not with a book in Twilight’s face, so after dinner he rechecked the library for his final once-over and instead of picking out a random book while strolling through the aisles like the norm, Spike went and grabbed his jacket, causing concern from Twilight. “What are you doing?” “What does it look like?” “Well, it doesn’t look like you’re picking up a book to read, like you do every day.” “Great observation...” “Are you going to pick up some supplies? Are we out of newt?” “No, we have plenty for tomorrow's potion...” “Good, I don’t want to miss school just because we didn’t have a cloning potion. So where are you going?” “I’m just going out.” “Going out?” “Yeah, I just felt like taking a walk.” “Oh, well... be safe and don’t stay out too late.” “Alright Twi,” and with that, he set off on another walk in the woods. It wasn’t a well traveled woods, hardly any trails to find, even if one were desperately looking for one, so he couldn’t go back and retrace his steps where it happened, so he did the next best thing, go on another anger fueled rant, throwing over exaggerated motion after exaggerated motion until the fading light from the setting sun finally sank into darkness. It wasn’t working, it was just frustrating him more and more, maybe it wasn’t real, maybe it was only his imagination, maybe... A snarl from just beyond the tree line shook him out of his thoughts and he froze, trying to see what made the sound as he made contact with eight shining eyes. He threw up his hands and started backing away slowly, but the animals didn’t flinch as much as move closer to him, snarling more viciously. He started yelling at them, hoping to scare them off, but it was no use, out of the brush came a small pack of wolves with their teeth bared, ready to attack. He had no clue what to do, he was nearly frozen in fear of these wild animals tearing him limb from limb, but he still had his hands up while backing away slowly, hoping to any deity out there that he would survive this. That’s when the first wolf lunged at him, growling as it ran and pounced onto him with seemingly glowing red eyes, followed quickly by the others, latching its vicious fangs into his leg, forcing him to grovel in pain as the others started surrounding him. He was overtaken by the fear and the pain, he could feel every motion of the hound as its teeth tore through his flesh, he desperately wanted to get away, he wanted to get them off him, he needed to fight them off. That’s when something clicked, a primal instinct, brought to the surface in a way that he could definitely feel for the first time, a primal urge that flowed through him like the most powerful potion of strength, a primal sensation that quelled his sense of fear. He could no longer feel the attack on his leg, but he could hear the whimpering as the wolf in question backed in pain. He took a step forward and saw the rest of them retreat in nearly paralyzing fear as he swiped his hand, seeing one fall in a bloody mess as the others ran. This was it, he could feel it. He could feel the sensation of being this... thing that wasn't the sensation of pride, greed, or even the bloodthirsty rage that he thought it was, but something that could only be described as a sense of wholeness, a sense of being in his natural form. A form that has razor sharp claws, muscles that bulged and stretched his clothes, scales that covered every inch of his being, and eyes that could see not only through the densest of darkest black nights, but into the very depths of fear in any creature. It was then that he noticed that his leg no longer held any pain, even when he checked the wound, he couldn’t find a single scratch, as if time itself reversed, in fear of what he might do to it. He wasn’t even bothered by the cold drop in temperature that would normally throw him into a bitter tantrum as he breathed a heavy sigh, exposing a plume of flames larger than he could normally produce, brightening the area around him, glad to be a good fair distance from anyone who might see him. He could still remember the first time he showed his mother his flaming breath; his mother told him that it was a sign of royal blood and that he was to never show it to anyone under any circumstance in fear of what they might do to him. He was also told that it wasn’t a normal fire, it was a magical fire, told to be produced by the natural potions brewing inside of him and colored uniquely to his person, allowing him to set objects alight, whether flammable or not, and either incinerate them completely or transfer them to any location he pleased. But this was neither of those actions, this was simply to breathe as calmly as he could, silently taking in the sense of being what he was. After some time had passed, he finally started making his way home, thinking of what Twilight will say during her lecture as he instinctively weaved through the almost endless trees and into the desolate edge, transforming back as soon as he neared it. The rest of the walk was uneventful, a few cars roaming by, a few broken street lamps, only the silence of his feet as he recalled the feeling of his transformation, trying to briefly, quietly, and discretely transform his eyes into those eyes and succeeding with some transformation of his face as well, until finally, he was home. Glad to be back in the safety of his abode, he strolled in, locked the door behind him, and took one step before finding out that the wolves weren't the only trouble he was going to see that night, for Twilight was livid. After making sure he was ok and believing the lie he told of why his pants were torn and bloody, he get a long and serious lecture about the dangers of staying out late, especially in a wooded area like that, but he didn’t really mind it, because in his mind, all he could think about was that he had found something else his royal blood was good for.