Mystery of the Draconics

by Wanderwing

Preparations

I walked into the nearby town of Neighton to buy the supplies we would need for our journey. I got some dried fruits and vegetables, I don’t hate meat but contrary to the old rumors my kind do not need to eat it to survive. I bought rope, torches and few other various pieces of exploration equipment. I paid for my purchases and made my way into the forest just outside of town. A month ago I found a hidden cave at the center of the forest. I discovered a larger cavern on the inside which I used for my battle practice.

I had set up a few practice dummies including one metal mannequin I had bought from a nearby clothier. Every day I could find the time I came back to that cave to practice fighting. The world was not safe for someone like me. I set my bags down and got to work.

I bucked and kicked at the nonmetal mannequins for hours, losing myself in my thoughts. Soon after my body began to tire and I decided to move to my specialty. I had attached feathers I had found to the edges of the metal mannequin. I braced myself and drew in as much breath as I could. Focusing and pressing with all my strength I began to practice short fire bursts.

As I practiced I thought back to when I first discovered this talent. Had I been born in another time, it would have marked me as a warrior, to be respected and feared. In this time however only the fear remained.
It was back in my foalhood. I had just started attending school in the town we were living in at the time. I had made friends with a young pegasus named Cerulean Feather. He was not much of a flyer and had had more than a few crash landings. During one such crash a rock sent flying by the crash struck a larger colt from our class. This colt insulted him to his face calling him an idiot and a klutz. Not one to back down, Feathers, as I called him, turned back to him and called him a weakling for not being able to dust off being hit with a pebble.

The bully jumped at him and started kicking at his head. Feathers was losing, badly. I couldn’t stand to see one of my friends hurt and I panicked. I ran up to the bully and yelled, but I didn’t yell sound, a burst of flame came instead. It singed off half his feathers and set his mane aflame. He screamed in shock and pain and ran away. Thankfully a nearby weather pony had a raincloud and put him out before any permanent damage was done.

But my secret was out. Even my friend, whom I had done this to save, saw me as a monster, a freak. It wasn’t long before guards had been informed. We had to leave our lives, and abandon our home, where we had lived since I was born, and it was all my fault. My parents told me I shouldn’t feel bad, my heart had been in the right place, but I never could see past that. I tried to visit the bully in the hospital once before we left but as soon as he saw me he started screaming saying, “He’s back, he’s going to kill me!”

I ran and jumped out a window and flew off tears streaming from my eyes.

The feathers had at this point all burned off the statue. I then decided it would be a good time to see how long I could hold the flame now. This is the hardest part of my training. Nopony had ever been recorded as managing over thirty seconds of sustained fire. My personal record at the time had been twelve seconds. That is about long enough to burn halfway through a tree. That day I was determined to push myself farther, I didn’t know what I would find in the crypt but I needed to be ready for it, no matter what. Focusing my thoughts at the center off my rage and my pain I drew a deep breath. I held it for just a moment before beginning to blow. The orange and green flames burned hot and bright, casting bizarre shadows and eerie lights through the cave.

At five seconds I began to feel the fatigue that comes with this ability. At ten I began to feel the effects of the heat, sweating and growing very thirsty. I had reached my record of twelve seconds but I thought I could hold on longer. On I pushed, thinking of my hate and the rage; I had made it to fifteen seconds. It is at this point my lungs began to give up. I stopped myself before burning myself. Shortly after my vision began to fade and I blacked out.

A few hours later I woke up, lying on the floor and covered in sweat. I looked up at the mannequin and was shocked to see it had warped. My flames weren’t strong enough to melt it but they had been enough to expand the metal and its contraction back to its original shape had cracked it through. I quickly dunked my head in the barrel of water I had brought with me and gulped a few mouthfuls. Walking back to the exit of the cave I picked up my bags and began my flight back to the inn. It had already grown dark and the streets were nearly deserted.

I used the front entrance and went up to the bar. Warmhearth was there tending the bar as usual. The place was empty tonight so I sat down and ordered a drink. Warmhearth said, “You aren’t looking so good Wander, hope you aren’t doing anything too reckless.” I answered tiredly, “I just overdid it in training today.” She asked, “Why do you keep it up? Why not just relax? Or find a hobby?”

“I just can’t, you are gonna think I am crazy but I’ll let you in on a little secret, I have… nightmares, horrible nightmares. I have seen terrible atrocities, and my ancestors have spoken to me.”

“You are right, that is crazy, you sure you aren’t hurt? Do you need a doctor?” she asked in a worrying tone.

“No,” I said, “I am fine, I swear, but these dreams tell me I need to find the truth, so that’s what I am going to do.”

“Well I know I can’t change your mind, but I will give you some advice, just be careful. The past isn’t worth dying for.” Warmhearth said.

“I will try my best not to get hurt.” I said then finished my drink. “Thanks again for the room, and the drink. Here you go,” I pass her five bits but she waves me away. “Just go get some sleep.” She says, laughing while she turns away to go close up for the night.

Not one to take charity I left the bits on the counter and headed up to my room. After closing the blinds and doing a quick search of the room, as always, and finding it empty I took off my pendant and looked at my eyes in the mirror. Still sharp and dangerous, the same when I checked my teeth. I thought to myself, what am I doing? Even if ponies could know I was like them they would still fear and revile me just the same.
I thought back, remembering that bully’s eyes as he was sure I had come to kill him. I barricaded the door put my medallion back on. I crawled into bed, still exhausted from my earlier training, and knew the dreams would come again tonight.

The nightmares are as varied as they are vivid. Occasionally they were gory blood baths, sometimes twisted torture chambers, huge monsters you can’t run from, and sometimes there is NOTHING, just floating in a void. Those are the scariest dreams of all. I am all that exists there was nothing before me and there will be nothing after me and I am alone, to drift though nothing forever unable to even control my direction.

Positive dreams are very rare for me and they are often just ploys to lower my guard. One moment running through a beautiful forest, then the sun goes down but the moon doesn’t rise and there are flashing eyes in the dark.
But back to positive dreams, I think everypony has the flying dreams at some point during their lives, flying through the air, carefree, in control, and truly free. I too have this dream. But my happiest dream is being with my family as we all uncloak and uncover ourselves and walk down the streets. Nopony attacks us, nopony screams, nopony chases us with pitchforks and torches. We just walk down the street calmly and a few ponies even wave to us. I see my old classmates and they are all glad to see me, even the one I hurt.

That night my dream felt secretive, almost covert. It felt like a hushed meeting of an underground group something trying to spread information without being suspicious. I saw a building that looked something like a town hall. I entered it knowing it was where I was meant to go. I found within it a meeting, a massive gathering of draconics like myself.

They were all arguing, I couldn’t figure out what about, but they kept pointing outside as if talking about the town. A large scarred male with a patch over one eye and visible scars branching out from it screamed at the table at the front of the room. It was plain he was one of the leaders and the other leaders were not taking his side.

I didn’t know what any of this was supposed to mean but suddenly every eye in the building spun to face me. They all spoke in unison, like a mad choir. “Show the truth, redeem us, and make us free. You MUST. Until the truth is known you will never be safe, you will always be hunted. Now awake, the evil ones come for you, awake, quickly. You must prepare, the cult seeks your doom, and the doom of us all.” I spoke desperate to know before I was brought back from sleep, “What cult? Who are the evil ones? Why me?”

At that moment I awoke, alone in my room, with just as few answers as I had before I went to sleep and a hundred more questions. I looked out the window through the blinds and saw that dawn would be coming soon. I got up and moved all the furniture to their original places. “I need to go take a shower.” I said to myself thinking it would help me clear my head. “Just one more night, tomorrow I meet the others and we set out for the crypt. I just hope I find the answers there, and hopefully not by way of my death at the hooves of this…cult.”