The Crusaders of Harmony

by Some Other Guy

1. The Dragon Prince

 
"Spike..." A familiar youthful voice tried to drag the young dragon out of his sleep. He responded with a slurred groan and promptly buried his head beneath the pillow, hoping it would go away if he ignored it. No such luck; the pillow was ripped away from his grip, and he felt something with a set of hooves clambering onto him. "Spi-ike! Time to get up!" the voice sang, and the presence started jumping up and down on top of him, just to hammer it all in.
 
"S'middle of the winter, Twilight. Go back to bed," he mumbled, forcing his bleary eyes open. A lavender-coated filly had seated herself on his belly, the very picture of excitement. Though it quickly became a look of exasperation at his less-than-enthusiastic response.
 
"Do you even remember what day it is today?" she asked. Spike craned his head to look at the alarm clock, then back to her in disbelief. It was seven-ten in the morning, and the sun wouldn't crest the horizon for another fifteen minutes. Typical Twilight Sparkle; she must have had caffeine for blood to have her eyes wide open before his mother even called the world awake.
 
"Is it the day I go to sleep for a hundred years?" He huffed, laying his head back down on the bed. "And can I have my pillow back? I don't want to wake up in a century with the mother of all neck aches."
 
"Only if you feel like missing out on the one-of-a-kind celebration of a new millennium..." The sleep-deprived dragon only gave half a thought as to what she meant. Nevertheless, as slowly as the gears in his head currently turned, he still connected the dots one by one, halfheartedly digging through recent memory, until...
 
"Hearth's Warming Eve!" Spike shot upright in his bed—and promptly butted heads with Twilight, who had leaned forward to finish her sentence. With a resounding thwack! he sent the filly sprawling onto the floor, clutching at his own head as he fell back onto the mattress. A quilt of multicolored stars danced around his vision like a swarm of fireflies, and he tried to count each and every one in an attempt to ignore the invisible axe buried in his skull.
 
By the sound of her groans, Twilight was having an even worse time of it than he was.
 
"Sweet Luna! Did you chisel your head out of a wrecking ball or something?"
 
"Why do you think there's an age-old saying about not waking a sleeping dragon?" he retorted, shaking his head and blinking away the dancing spots. Of course, that bit of wisdom technically only applied to dragons big enough to knock down buildings, but that didn't stop the young drake from putting on a smug grin as his young assistant lifted her head to scowl at him. "Come on, Twilight. You're the one who couldn't uphold the sacred laws of personal space. My indestructible skull is completely innocent in this so-called crime!"
 
It was at this point that Twilight resorted to giving Spike a look that attempted to resemble the mock-glare Princess Celestia would sometimes give him after pulling a prank on her—albeit exaggerated to the point she was staring down her muzzle at him with the most ridiculous frown he'd ever seen.
 
To say that he produced a loud enough snort to spit out his tonsils was an understatement; he doubled over and let loose a plume of green fire in the process, which promptly swathed his blanket and sent it flying out of the room in a trail of magic. And then it was Twilight's turn to collapse in a convulsive heap as he stared after it in dismay. Between the gasps of her hysterical laughter, he swore he heard a distant booming shout that caused the windows to rattle.
 
"...So blankets can be magic-mailed. Who'da thunk it? " Spike sighed, now seeing no other option but to hoist himself back up and slide off the edge of the bed. He spent another minute or three lying on his bare mattress before deciding that it was worth the effort, and by the time his feet met the cold floorboards, Twilight was still having giggle-fits every time she stole a glance at him. Shaking his head, he eyed the stack of scrolls sitting on the desk by the other side of the room—his part of the script for the an annual Hearth's Warming Pageant.
 
Perhaps it wasn't all bad to be getting up earlier than usual. He had certainly been planning to get one last practice session in before getting up onstage, even if he had already familiarized himself with the entire thing. But first things first...
 
A quick glance towards the perch by the window showed him that the phoenix which occupied it was somehow still sleeping soundly, his head tucked under his wing and everything. He cracked a grin at the sight, feeling a small pang of pride and jealousy both. Pride at how well he had grown over the past year alone. Jealousy over the fact that he was already approaching adulthood while Spike himself had yet to reach adolescence.
 
Well, being slightly taller than a full-grown mare sort of made up for it; nopony could call him a baby anymore.
 
"Bird after my own heart, isn't he?"
 
"Speaking of which, you refilled his food tray, right? I know for sure that Panteleimon got his appetite from you."
 
"...Why can't you ever just call him Peewee?"
 
With a shrug, Spike padded over to the perch, climbing a stool that was half as tall as he was and peering into the brass tray right beside the little firebird. As expected, Peewee—Panta-what-imon was Twilight's idea, not his—had gorged as much in two days as Philomena was said to normally eat in five. Even so, there was still enough left to last him the rest of the week.
 
Now then, the rehearsal...
 
Giddy with excitement, the young dragon hopped down from the stool, crossing the distance to his bed and climbed back onto it. It was no stage, but it still managed to put him in the zone. He cleared his throat and raised his hand with a flourish, all traces of fatigue seemingly vanishing as he imagined himself in front of an audience of hundreds. Possibly over a thousand, considering the occasion.
 
"Once upon a time, long before the peaceful rule of—BRAAAP!"
 
With a great belch of fire, Spike's narration was interrupted, and before he could even close his mouth, he found himself swallowed up from above by something so big that it covered him completely, casting him into total darkness.
 
With a yelp, he struggled to free himself from its abyssal depths, flailing around in a futile attempt to claw free. For all the force he put behind his wild gyrating, it merely contorted around him like an amorphous blob. Somewhere beyond, he could hear Twilight cracking up like it was all a massive joke. For a gut-clenching moment, he felt a sense of weightlessness as he fell from the bed, only to land on his side and become even more entangled within that pliant cocoon.
 
"What are you doing?! I'm being eaten by the Smooze!"
 
The answer came to him when he heard the flapping of great wings and felt a pair of talons pull the terrifying thing off of his head—the drake found himself staring at the folds of his gargantuan-sized blanket, thoughtfully returned to him by his adoptive mother.
 
The sudden magnetic attraction forming between his hand and his forehead was nigh irresistible, and as both Twilight and the now-awake Peewee dragged the rest of the comforter off of him, he let the two meet with an audible slap.
 
"What could I do? I don't think a how-to guide was written for saving dragons from being eaten by their own blankets... But maybe I could write one!" The look on her face as she stood there looking up to him was that oh-so-familiar mixture of mirthful and faux-apologetic, all the more noticeable as bright rays of sunlight began to shine through the windows. And then, with a great rumbling of her stomach, Twilight's expression quickly turned to that of embarrassment, and she forced out a quiet laugh that sounded equally as self-conscious. "Aheh, you don't suppose we could eat before you launch into an impromptu rehearsal session, could you?" she murmured, scuffing her hoof against the floor.
 
"So long as you keep the blanket incident a secret. If anypony asks: You didn't see anything." To emphasize his point, he delivered a poke to her chest, trying and failing to suppress a grin when he felt a pair of talons clamp down on his head fins and use them as a perch. A quick glance upwards gave him the sight of Peewee peering back down at him, greeting him with a melodic craw.
 
"But who would ask if we're the only ones in the room?" Twilight asked, tilting her head to the side.
 
"You never know, Twi. You never know... I heard a rumor recently that old Paparazzi mastered invisibility spells." Spike tittered, chuckling to himself as the filly spun about trying to find subtle distortions in their surroundings. Of course, he had reacted the same way when he overheard it from a conversation between Fancypants and Whitetail—and after those tabloid photos of what happened last Nightmare Night, who was to say that if both Princesses were fair game, their adopted draconic son wasn't?
 
Hence, it was the reason the dragon and his assistant both jumped at the sound of the door creaking open. But the eyes that peered in at them were a familiar shade of gold, and the door flung open to admit none other than Twilight's father. The blue-hued stallion stopped in his tracks, blinking at the sight of the mess they were in.
 
"...Rough morning, I assume?" he asked, levitating the blanket and pillow back to where it belonged. His daughter looked on in envy as the golden aura accomplished in seconds what usually took her minutes of fumbling around. For all the brains she had at her age, the seven year-old could barely turn a page with that horn of hers.
 
"Eh, nothing we couldn't handle, professor." Spike caught Twilight grinning at his reply, and knowing all too well what she wanted to say on the matter, shot her his take on that same mock-glare while Nightlight was busy with the covers. "We were just about to head down to the dining hall for breakfast."
 
"Hm, might want to hold that thought." Another flare of the horn, and the astronomer extracted a scroll that had been buried among the covers it had been mailed with. Without another word, he levi'd it over to the drake, and it was with a vague feeling of reluctance that he rolled it open and quietly read it aloud.
 
"My dearest son, Spike; you know that I value your growing independence and that I will always be proud of you... but have I not taught you how to do your own laundry eight years ago?" The glare he gave the two ponies at the sound of their snickers was very much not a false one, and only relented when he felt Peewee fluttering his wings—all things considered, he'd have a laugh too if somepony else read that out loud with a large bird perched on their head. "Which reminds me, we have not been together for some time now, and Luna and I both long for your presence. Would you please meet with us in our private dining chamber for breakfast? P.S. You may bring little Twilight along if you would like. As a matter of fact, I recommend that you do."
 
"I get to eat breakfast with the Princesses? Really?" The filly's eyes went wide with excitement, and as she stood bouncing in place with that purple-eyed gaze locked on him, Spike would have otherwise found it downright impossible to say no to that kind of enthusiasm.
 
"Really, really."
 
Twilight went off like a rocket the moment he spoke, darting to and fro all across the dorm room, snatching up a saddlebag and dumping various odds and ends into it as she went. Her companion and her father could only stare after her, until they spared a glance at each other and ruefully shook their heads.
 
"She really wants to enroll here, doesn't she?" Spike asked, and Nightlight merely smiled in response. Which was increasingly becoming more and more of a rhetorical question, given how obvious it was that she was aiming to impress her hosts. Books, quills and the works, all of it jammed neatly into the bags. And all to give the impression that she was geared up and ready for a day of solid learning that was expected of all students of Celestia's & Luna's Academy for Gifted Ponies (and dragon)... except said day was supposed to be a holiday.
 
Not that she even needed to; it was Twilight's drive and curiosity that brought her and Spike together two years ago. By virtue of her father being a part of the school's astronomy research team, the filly was allowed access to the school's library without having to be a student. Having spent a while wandering those halls loaded down with books, the drake had been the first student she latched onto for help. Every moment for him since; every study session, every class lecture, practically every waking moment, was spent guiding the filly to learn things that were nearly a decade ahead of her educational level—by the academy's standards. And in return, she had helped him to organize, to neatly arrange the entirety of his schoolwork, making the occasional gargantuan workload more manageable than he would have ever thought possible.
 
The short version was that they had become an effective team, and the Princesses suggesting to Nightlight to make her the drake's research assistant was simply their way of letting the duo stick together. As far as they were concerned, Twilight Sparkle was already a student in their school in all but name.
 
"I'm ready!" Twilight called, emerging from the last drawer in all the glory of a filly wearing saddlebags overstuffed to the point of ridicule. Spike found it increasingly hard to hold back a chuckle as she waddled across the room with packs that made her profile twice as wide, and apparently made it just as hard to walk.
 
"I didn't realize we were packing for a field trip to Saddle Arabia..." he murmured, covering his grin with a claw as Peewee fluttered from his head back to the perch, pointedly facing away from the sight of her. Nightlight forced his own grin into a grimace, running a hoof through the back of his mane.
 
"That is a little excessive, Twily. You're going to wind up falling over halfway to the—" The stallion could only sigh as his daughter did exactly that, tipping over onto her side and spilling the contents of her packs all across the floor. With all the vast reserves of patience that developed from years of parenthood experience, he simply trotted over and helped her back to her hooves, pulling the saddlebags off in the process. "You two just run along, I'll clean this up and catch you two later at the midnight festival, or maybe the launch if you're headed to the observatory later. Don't want to keep the Royal Sisters waiting."
 
"But what if—?"
 
"It's breakfast. The worst that could possibly happen wouldn't even be our fault if it does," Spike countered, and promptly started walking before Twilight had a chance to ask what that hypothetical worst thing was. The filly spared a glance towards her father, who only smiled and waved her on, before hurrying after him.
 
The young dragon breathed a sigh of relief, having just dodged a lengthy, awkward explanation. 'Dining with the Royal Sisters' sometimes meant fighting off an army of Luna's spell-animated alfalfa sprouts; he could've sworn it was an inside joke she kept pulling against her sister.
 

 
"You know, I read something interesting about a certain type of spell the other day. Did you know that banishment spells were made to end on their own a thousand years after they were cast?"
 
Spike had only been half-listening to his assistant as they both walked the straightest route to the palace, distracted by the goings-on all around him. But the capitol city of Everfree, as of the thirty-first of December in the 2999th year of Equestria's founding, offered much in the way of distractions. There were the bustling crowds and the hums of passing streetcars, as well as the vendors calling out their wares and objects proudly displayed in every storefront. There were the silhouettes of airships and pegasi sailing high above the rooftops, and the further distant specks of the much lauded airgliders. The buildings themselves had a story to be told; a tale of ancient sentinels from the nation's first days that still stood strong among the shining towers of modern times which reached out to the heavens. All of it further compounded by the air of early-winter festivity that permeated the streets.
 
Nevertheless, the drake's mind still processed the question posed to him.
 
"Huh, who knew?" he replied, staring after a particularly gaudily-dressed group of pegasi as they flew in formation between the streets, calling to the crowd and each other as they trailed ribbons of so many vivid colors behind them. The filly, not to be brushed aside for a bunch of circus ponies, made a face and continued on.
 
"Well, I'm bringing this up because I was also reading about the banishment of King Sombra and the disappearance of the Crystal Empire's capitol. Today's supposed to be the thousandth anniversary of the day that happened." Spike let out a sigh, forcing his wandering gaze away from a nearby gaggle of griffin tourists that were snapping countless photos of their surroundings—half of which had their cameras currently aimed at him.
 
"Oh, please! You worry too much, Twi." He snorted. "I'm betting that's just a theory, because there was what's-his-face Discord long before him. And wherever they sent him off to, he should've been back centuries before Sombra was even born." His words of reassurance, as expected, failed to reassure the filly. Instead, she simply jumped upon the million-bit question.
 
"And if Sombra does return? What are you going to say to that?" she asked. Spike rolled his eyes and shrugged, flashing her a winning smile.
 
"Tell you what. If he comes back, I'll just waltz right into the Crystal Empire and bury him a second time. The mad king may have conquered a nation in his time, but there's nothing in the history of anything that can stop a dragon with a plan!" he boasted, turning back to the griffins and stopping to strike a pose normally reserved for his dorm room's mirror. This earned him an exasperated huff from the filly, delighted laughter from the tourists, and an equally gung-ho pose from one of them in particular who donned over a dozen different kinds of headwear.
 
"Nothing except for the Dreaded Smooze-Blanket, am I right?"
 
"I thought we agreed to never speak of that again—"
 
"A baby dragon!" No sooner had Spike heard those words did the one who said them come within an inch of barreling into him, and for a moment his entire world became a pair of deep turquoise eyes against a backdrop of pink and butter-yellow. By instinct, the drake backpedaled a few steps, and fluttering before him was a pegasus filly, wearing a look of excitement that somehow gave Twilight's a run for her money. "Oh, I've never seen a baby dragon before. He's sooo cute!" she gushed, with a voice fit to give lesser beings a heart attack. He himself was at a loss for words, having parsed one single word out of it all and unable to come up with a response. At least until he heard Twilight snickering at him.
 
"Got your fifteen-inch tongue in a knot, Spike? What happened to that dragon with a plan you were just tooting your horn about?" she asked. His comeback was halfway from his brain to his mouth when the pegasus once again put her deadly voice to good use.
 
"Oh my, he can talk?"
 
"When his train of thought hasn't been chucked into outer space, yeah."
 
"I'm not a baby. I'm turning seventeen tomorrow. Seventeen," he protested, having finally found his voice, and while the unicorn filly had a laugh out of the dig at one of his many sore spots, the pegasus seemed to shrink in on herself, mumbling a barely-audible apology. He opened his mouth to reassure her that it wasn't necessary, but once again, his attention was diverted elsewhere. This time to the sensation of a hot breath running down the back of his head.
 
"Really now?" came yet another stranger's voice, this one deep, laden with a tone that made the fins rise on the back of Spike's neck, and at a distance which took the concept of personal space and squashed it flat. To his utter dismay, Twilight recoiled in shock the moment she turned around, staring above him with her mouth agape.
 
"I'm about to die a horrible death, aren't I?" he found himself asking, not daring to follow her gaze.
 
"How awfully pessimistic of you, my scaly little friend. I assure you, I don't bite... often." The stranger chuckled at his own words, and the pegasus filly raised her head to roll her eyes, clearly unimpressed. Well, if she wasn't fazed by whatever left his assistant at a complete loss for words... Spike worked up the nerve to look directly above him.
 
A giant, mismatched pair of yellow-and-red eyes stared down at him, belonging to an equally-mismatched creature who was currently bent over backwards to such a degree that a trained gymnast would envy. The snaggle-toothed grin forming on his face was what got him to whip around and back away, but the dragon hardly took two steps before the back of his head met the fluffy end of the stranger's serpentine tail, and he froze on the spot. The chimera-thing twisted around and leaned in towards him, a talon held to his bearded chin in a pose of mock-pondering that might have been convincing if he hadn't been grinning like he just found himself a new chew toy.
 

 
"What, no salutations? No good mornings, Happy Hearth Warmings or even Istallian victory salutes? O' dragon boy, you wound me so!"
 
"Oh, stop taunting him! You're scaring the poor thing!" the pegasus admonished, and the stranger chuckled, his grin losing its sadistic edge as he straightened out to a truly impressive height. Spike didn't know whether to feel grateful or embarrassed for the filly's assistance.
 
"Ah, the dubious joy of being a killjoy... Come along, my darling! We have bigger fires to fan!" he sang, gathering up the filly in his lion's paw of a right arm and throwing a sweeping gesture to his surroundings with his left. Still, he saw fit to turn towards Spike once more, twisting his own body into a knot in the process and wearing an unreadable expression on his face. After which he uttered the most horrifying phrase the young dragon had ever had been on the receiving end of: "I know where you live, by the way. Have fun with that."
 
And without any further warning, he raised his free hand and snapped his fingers, vanishing in a burst of cotton candy and bananas. The dragon and his assistant—along with a dozen or so bystanders—could only stare at the mess that was strewn across the sidewalk as well as themselves, the only proof they had that the walking defiance of all things natural had been real.
 
"...I'm going to die a horrible death, aren't I?" Spike repeated.
 
"We should probably go." Twilight agreed, and without another word, the two of them continued their relatively short journey and tried to make sense of what had just transpired.
 
It was a known fact that the Everfree metropolis often attracted the strangest of individuals, but this took the cake and strapped it to a rocket.
 
The rest of their walk was for the most part uneventful in comparison, once they had picked all the stray bits of cotton candy off of their bodies. Somewhere along the way, the flourishing district in which they lived gave way to a much older part of the city, one characterized by the sense of subtle grandeur that it evoked. This was where, just shy of three millennia past, Equestria's founders had banded together and set down a unified flag, and future generations had crafted it into a crown jewel that truly lived up to its title.
 
But for Spike, this was simply what he called home, and simply walking those familiar streets let the encounter with the chimera stranger slip from his mind completely.
 
"Wow, I feel like I just went back in time to the Revival Era. This is nice!" Twilight exclaimed. He smiled at the sight of her old excitement starting to return, her head swiveling this way and that to take in all the sights. "It's hard to believe that it all started out as a village back during the founding..."
 
"Heh, that's why most of the ponies who live here are such a great bunch. They never forgot their roots... which is more than can be said for Canterlot." He nearly gagged at having to speak that last word. Yeah, the city sure looked pretty, and the view from that mountain was downright gorgeous, but the altitude must have been doing something to ponies' brains or something. He'd never met anyone so air-headed in his life.

Fancypants once told him, as cheerfully as he always seemed to be, that a neighborhood was only as good as the neighbors were, and he only needed one trip to that place to figure out where the entrepreneur was inspired to come up with the saying.
 
The rest of their trek passed by in a matter of minutes, and before they knew it, the duo found themselves traversing the courtyards of their destination; the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, expanded from the one-room hall that had once served as the first foundations of a fledgling nation. Twilight's pace slowed, a look of awe forming on her face as she took in the sight of it all.
 
"Never thought you'd be walking up to those doors, did you?" Spike chuckled. He, on the other hand, felt like any other student who was headed to spend their vacation at home. Running on pure habit, he waved to the guards as he passed, receiving curt nods in return as he pushed open the grand double-doors. Without a moment's glance at the sculpture sitting at its center, he crossed the entrance hall, heading straight for the doorway which was the closest route to the Princesses' chambers.
 
He only stopped when he realized that Twilight still stood at the entrance, looking around with a strange look on her face.
 
"What's wrong, Twilight?" he called, and the filly reacted as if snapped out of a trance, hurrying over to his side.
 
"Nothing, just déjà vu..." she trailed off, her gaze drawn back to the sculpture at the room's center. The head-sized gems sitting on its pedestals gleamed in the sunlight coming through the windows, and the whole thing had always given him the impression of a guard that never let down its vigil. "A very, very strong feeling of déjà vu." She blinked, shaking her head as if to get rid of the feeling.
 
"Eh, don't let it get to you. Today's going to be one hay of a day for the two of us!" Spike clapped the little unicorn on the shoulder, coaxing a smile out of her. A day which would probably end with that chimera-thing turning him into a pumpkin when the clock struck twelve, but nevertheless a day which promised much to be excited about. At the moment, as they stepped through another door and into a spacious corridor, he was simply glad to see the spring in her step. The drake had spent the better part of two years trying to break the filly's habit of running herself ragged with anxiety, and here and now, he could tell it was paying off.
 
It hadn't been far to go, just a few more twists and turns through the halls and past the odd servant or guard or whatnot before their destination was one closed door away. As they entered the dining room, a familiar melodious voice greeted their ears.
 
"Ah, good morning Spike, Twilight. Seeing you two puts a smile on my face." So said one of the two ponies that had raised him straight from the egg, both of which sat at the table. Night and Day, side by side like two opposites on the same regal coin. The effect was always lost on him, but seeing them now only reminded him of two whole months of nothing but the occasional letter. While Twilight was busy fumbling over into an awkward bow, Spike ran around the table and threw his arms around both of them in a just-as-awkward group hug.
 
Was it just him, or were there a few loose threads dangling in Princess Celestia's mane?
 
"Has it really been so long? We're only about two dozen blocks away from each other!" He broke the hug, grinning from ear-to-ear as he drank in the sight of them
 
"I suppose we will simply have to start arranging more visits from now on. Heavens know that this has been a very busy year for all of us." Celestia replied, the warmth in her voice impossible to miss. She gave him one last nuzzle before gesturing towards the table, or more specifically, the spot at the table on which sat a plate heaped with gemstones. He felt his mouth begin to water when he saw just how many of them were fire rubies, and spared no moment in taking his seat and digging in. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Twilight grimacing from her own seat as he popped a handful in and chomped down on them.
 
Most likely because of what happened to her gums last year when she wanted to know what gems tasted like.
 
"Come to think of it, I don't believe that I have ever seen you up so early on Hearth's Warming Eve, my little dragon. Did something happen this morning to disturb you?" The white-coated alicorn wore a smile that was nothing if not amiable. Her sister, on the other hand, didn't remain so composed as she caught the unicorn filly's smirk.
 
"So, Twilight Sparkle has discovered the answer that has eluded us for nearly two decades now... I suspect that our little dragon was in for a rude awakening of the most literal kind." Luna tittered, and Spike found himself blushing as the blanket incident came rushing back to him. When Twilight let out that telltale giggle of hers, he brought his hand to his forehead once again that morning; what was going to come out of her mouth next was painfully obvious. So much for keeping a secret...
 
"Yeah, getting eaten by a giant blanket can work wonders an alarm clock can't."
 
"I'll say..." Luna murmured, turning to stare at her older sibling with a well-crafted expression of innocence. Her gaze was returned with the closest thing to deadpan that he had ever seen Celestia make. With a sniff, she looked away, and the Sovereign of the Night brought her hoof to her mouth, quietly clearing her throat as she watched her eldest brush a hoof through her ethereal mane. The strands that came loose were all deep reddish-brown in color.
 
Princess Celestia's mane was a veritable rainbow of soft colors—but the rich maroon of his blanket definitely wasn't one of them.
 
"It has been a rather interesting morning so far," she admitted, and then proceeded to steer away from that topic with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. "And it only promises to get even more interesting. I haven't seen such a gathering in this city for almost sixty-three years, since the demonstration of the first working airglider. And now..." she paused, sparing a look towards the nearest window.
 
"And now we're marking the end of an era, by sending a pony out among the stars." Luna finished, taking a bite out of her own meal. "I could hardly believe it when they launched the first rocket almost seven years ago. Now I feel as though our dreams have begun to mingle with the waking world." Twilight sent a glance Spike's way at the mention of the Pioneer's launch, and he couldn't help but chuckle—she'd often bragged to him about that event being her first foalhood memory. And speaking of which...
 
"I don't know, Auntie Luna. What I do know is that they're already making plans to shoot for the moon with those rockets," he said, earning himself an incredulous stare from the sole being who guided the movement of that celestial body.
 
"Why Luna, maybe you could volunteer to go on that trip when the time comes," the Solar Diarch chimed in, and that contribution earned her an irate glare from her sibling. But neither her smile nor her gaze wavered, and there was no trace of humor in her voice when she continued on. "No, I truly believe that, dear sister. For what would be more fitting than for you to be the first pony to set foot on your own domain?" The silence became deafening as the younger alicorn poked at her food, lost in thought for minutes on end. Spike was starting to wonder what he had just instigated when his claws scrabbled against his now-empty plate, which he stared at in disappointment until he pushed it away with a sigh.
 
"Well, I'll be in my room rehearsing for the pageant if anypony needs me—"
 
"Actually, there is something else that I would like for you to do," his adoptive mother cut in, levitating a scroll over to him. Unrolled, it displayed a list of names, addresses and occupations. He looked back up at her, uncomprehending. "I am assigning you to check up on some of the preparations for tonight's celebration. Some, not all. I know you have other arrangements tonight," she added, sensing his oncoming protest. He delivered it anyway.
 
"...But why?"
 
"Because neither of us want you to spend yet another holiday cooped up, whether it is in your dormitory at the school or here," Luna responded. "That you have little Twilight to keep you company is a step in the right direction, but the fact remains that you both simply must get out and interact with the outside world. There is far more to life than what can be found in books, and we only wish for your own lives to be more fulfilling."
 
"What we truly want is for you to have more peers to socialize with. The ponies on that list are mostly within your age group for just that reason," explained Celestia. "All I ask is that you form a lasting relationship with five ponies by sunset, no more, no less. Is that fair?"
 
"I... I don't see how it isn't." Truthfully, there really wasn't anything particularly harsh about an assignment that practically amounted to going around town and getting friendly with a few ponies. But this was one of those rare times when either of the Princesses had given him something to do that needed to be finished at the day's end and not tipped him off beforehand, let alone the fact that she had never before dumped a surprise assignment on his shoulders during a holiday. Given the circumstances, it left him feeling rather annoyed. Best to get it out of the way as soon as possible, then. "Right. C'mon, Twilight. It's time we got going." No sooner did he make that announcement and hop out of his chair did the other three say the same three words in unison.
 
"What, so soon?" There followed another short moment of silence as the three ponies glanced at each other, and Twilight was the first to recover.
 
"Since when have you ever left breakfast without a second helping? Or a third..." As if to prove her point, Spike felt his stomach grumbling out its protest. Sighing, he glanced down at the paper again, and grinned when he noticed a certain item written on it.
 
"Ever since I saw the words baked goods on this list." The young dragon rolled up the parchment and made for the door, with the filly reluctantly following. He had his hand to the knob when Celestia spoke up one more time.
 
"I was hoping that you would stay for a little while longer. I certainly hadn't meant to imply that you were to start immediately." The young dragon paused for a moment, looking back towards the table. The Solar Diarch stared back, and for a moment, he thought that she looked almost sad. And then he looked at Luna, who stared off into space with a hoof to her chin, and promptly made up his mind.
 
"Well, there's always tomorrow morning, right? I'll see you then—dragon's promise!" he called, stepping beyond the doorway and pushing it shut. He could hardly imagine that he had just stepped onto a path which would change his life forever, and had he caught Celestia's murmured words shortly after his exit, he might have slowed his steps. Quite likely, he might have turned around and barged right back in.
 
"Then I hope with all my heart that you succeed, my little dragon. Otherwise, there may never be another tomorrow."