//------------------------------// // 27: What Bound Them // Story: What Bound Them // by Headless //------------------------------// Dragon. Spike had always known, intellectually, what the word meant. Dragons were dangerous creatures, all scales and teeth and fire. They were beings of anger, greed, jealousy, and hate. Their lives were literally paced by how much of those traits they exhibited. The angrier they became, the more precious the things they hoarded, the larger and stronger they could grow. Now, for the first time in his life, he embraced it. In the Everfree forest, he had been unable to stop himself from changing. It had been an automatic reaction. Twilight Sparkle was in danger. Twilight Sparkle was precious to him. His body had answered without any actual conscious decision taking place, the same way that it had on the day that Rarity died. This time, he was calling it up deliberately. That terrified him, but he did it anyway. He couldn't deny the feeling bubbling up inside his chest. His wings were broken. His scales, shattered. His bones, fractured. His eye, so swollen that he thought it might never open again. His wounds, open once more. His body, full of the sensation of dark, dark ice spreading through his veins, radiating outward from the rents in his scales where Queen Chrysalis' magic had struck. Rarity, taken from him in the most brutal way possible. Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, Applejack, Shining Armor, Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, all dead and buried, alongside countless others. Ponyville, lost to the mists of time. Canterlot, reduced to rubble and ice. Celestia, murdered by her own sister. Luna, consumed by insanity. Twilight Sparkle, gone. For the first time in his life, Spike the dragon wanted to hurt something. Before, it had been a reflex. He couldn't have stopped himself from burning the changelings in the Everfree Forest if he had tried. It was simply what dragons did when something precious to them was threatened. Even then, he had made the conscious decision to not kill Queen Chrysalis when he had the opportunity. Now, he chose it. He could feel the raw, seething anger welling up within him, and he couldn't fight it. He didn't want to fight it. He wanted to get it out, to purge it from his mind in any way he could. He wanted to take that rage and channel it into his claws and teeth and flame and simply hurt something until he had taken all of the pain inside himself and forced it out onto his target. He wasn't proud of it. He didn't want to feel that way. But now the windigos were here. They were offering themselves to him as receptacles for his anger. Spike, said a very, very small voice in the back of his mind, I'm so sorry. He still didn't know whether or not the windigos could be physically killed, but he remembered the feeling of impact the first time that he had swung at them. Even if they couldn't be beaten, they could be slowed. As the stampeding forms of the windigos bore down on him, unsure of whether he was doing it out of anger or fear or sorrow or some other emotion entirely, Spike reared up onto his back legs, spread his claws, and screamed at them. Compass felt the world spin around her as the blast of icy wind plucked her from her hooves and hurled her, end-over-end, into the sleet. She hit hard, bounced, hit again, skidded to a halt as ice and stone alike battered at her already-sore body. The threads of the spell spun away into the corners of her mind once more. She was wearing a thick cloak and thicker boots, but already she felt frozen to the core. Every pained breath caused the air in front of her face to fog heavily for a moment, just before the steam was subsumed into the rest of the storm. The blizzard the windigos had brought with them reduced visibility around her to the point that she could barely make out her own hooves if she squinted. No sound but the rushing of the storm reached her ears, save for the occasional shriek from the windigos. No, that wasn't entirely true. There was another sound, but Compass Rose did her best to shut it out. It was an oily little whisper, right next to her ear, that she could somehow make out over the wind. It said things to her that she didn't even want to contemplate in the safety of her own mind, let alone hear spoken aloud. The same voice had spoken to her the first voice the windigos had attacked, before they reached the safety of the castle. It wormed its way into her mind, found all the things that she didn't want to think about, and brought them up. It felt the same way that the magic in the castle had: hungry, corrosive, wrong. She attempted to push it aside and get herself upright. There were others who needed her help. They were counting on her to cast the spell. you could have done it already if he hadn't crippled you Even though she had only been on the ground for a few seconds, the ice had begun to set in. She heard a crackling noise as she wrenched her right fore hoof free of it and stood up. And the ice was inside her now, too, the same way it had been the first time. The windigos were reaching into her. They were feeding. She swung her head back and forth, looking for any sign of the others. There was nothing but blinding snow and the shadows of the windigos circling her. Once again, she felt herself slipping past simple panic and moving into the oddly calm waters beyond, where each of her thoughts rang with impossible clarity. Find the path. The Elements of Harmony. Even though she had never seen them, they were the answer. They were separate, but one. There was something that connected them, a thread of magic that kept them united. Eyes shut, Compass Rose reached out with her dulled, clumsy magic and found the thread that bound them. And, at the other end, there was a pull. She staggered off. The windigos didn't come to him. The ice came first, forming around Spike's legs in thick layers, trying to pin him to the spot. He heaved with all of the strength that his anger brought and snapped through it without even trying. The voice in his head was screaming now. Every painful memory, every repressed hurt he had ever felt, was being dredged up and recited to him in a litany of pain. He didn't know if it was his own mind doing it, or if the windigos were summoning it up, or if it even mattered. He just knew that his rage was still rising. He lunged forward, turning his scream into a roar. The blizzard drank and deadened the sound as he brought his talons around, swiping at the closest shape, anticipating the shock of impact that he had felt before. It never came. His claws passed through the spirit as if it didn't exist, and it galloped away unharmed. The shriek it emitted seemed to mock him as it went. He spun, lashed out again as another of the herd came too close. Again, his claws passed through it as if it weren't there. You can free her from all this. Chrysalis' voice. Images of the castle, of Twilight cocooned and helpless, danced in front of his eyes. His claws smashed into stone, tore it apart effortlessly. The last of the old guard. Discord's misshapen face, grinning at him, mocking his loss, piling more and more injuries onto him even as he claimed to be helping. Spike's tail lashed out, ignoring the scream of injured bones and bruised muscle. A building, only partially visible in the storm, collapsed on itself from the impact. You ponies are so predictable. He'll lose them all eventually. Princess Celestia, calm and collected as always, with that same damn soft smile that she meant to be comforting but which only emphasized the fact that she didn't care the same way he did, that she didn't feel the pain he had when Rarity was laid to rest. He roared to the sky, spitting green flame, still thrashing at the windigos. His movements were wild, uncontrolled, desperate; he needed a target, and he was being denied. The pain in him was boiling up and he couldn't keep it in any more, oh please just give me some way to make it stop- I promise. I promise, I promise, I promise. The rising cacophony in his head was gone, replaced only by those words. They rang around his head like a condemnation. They hurt more than he could possibly describe. She promised. She lied. Now the sensation of something rising within him wasn't metaphorical. He could feel it in his throat, an obstruction forcing its way upward, like the force of his fire but oh so much more painful. He tasted bile, felt his throat burn and ache, felt something thick and tar-like leaking from between his shattered teeth. The wounds Queen Chrysalis had left felt like they had been reopened, as if someone had stabbed him right through those rents in his scales with blades of ice. He had to get it out. This time, when he opened his mouth to spit flame at his attackers, no green fire came. Instead, something else poured out of him, something black and smoky, something that looked like flame but flowed like tar and clung to what it struck and sizzled and melted and corroded. He hated it, hated the bitter taste, hated the unnatural feel, hated the way it burned him from the inside. He wanted it to stop, but every time he tried, he felt as though it were pooling inside him, and that was worse. So he forced it out in great, heavy gouts, turning the white snow black and scouring away the stone. Around him, the windigos shrieked louder. Ahead of her, Compass could hear screaming. It wasn't the howling of the winds or the unnatural keening of the windigos. It was a pony's voice, caught somewhere between terror and anger. There weren't any words to it. It was the scream of someone who couldn't find any words that could express what they were feeling. She pushed towards it. It was Tailspin. The pegasus was standing, crouched low, beside a figure half-buried in the snow. It took her a moment to realize that it was Pith Helmet, and for a moment, she thought that he might be dead, but then he lifted his head and she let out a sigh of relief. The stretcher was gone, as was his torch. He just couldn't stand up. Compass forced her way through the blizzard towards them, blinking rapidly to keep her vision clear in the blinding sleet. As she approached, she saw one of the windigos swoop down towards them, causing the ice beneath it to grow even thicker. Tailspin screamed again and reared up on her hind legs to kick at it. It didn't look like she had landed a very solid blow, but the thing shrieked and wheeled away. "Tailspin!" She didn't think that her voice would be strong enough to reach, but the pegasus turned to face her anyway. Compass couldn't make out her expression through the snow, but a moment later, she found herself being pulled into a one-legged embrace as Tailspin pulled her close. "Where's Spike?" She was shouting into Compass' ear, trying to make herself audible through the storm. "I don't know! I haven't seen him!" "Can you cast the spell?" Compass flinched, but forced out a reply anyway. "No! I tried! Felt like my horn was going to break again!" "Then what do we do?" Tailspin released her grip on Compass, turned away, and heaved Pith to his feet. The stallion's coat was covered in frost, but he managed to keep from shaking, and even stood on his own despite his broken leg. He moved in to join the other two. "We find Spike," he shouted. "And then we run for it." "What about Discord?" Compass cast her gaze about at the circling windigos and pressed a bit closer to the other two. "Can't find him," answered Tailspin. Compass blinked. "We can't just leave him!" "He's probably run off already!" came Pith's reply. "Focus on us!" Compass opened her mouth to reply, to try and argue, but she was interrupted by another shout from Tailspin. The pegasus' sudden movement as she kicked out at another windigo almost sent Pith sprawling to the ground again, but he somehow managed to stay on his hooves despite having to keep his broken leg off the ground. "No time!" Tailspin shouted. "Let's move! Find Spike!" Compass clenched her teeth. There was no time. They had to keep moving, or they would be frozen solid. Even as she thought it, she had to wrench one of her hooves away from the street as the encroaching ice worked its way up past her boots. "Fine!" she screamed. "Follow me!" She reached out, searching for the thread again. When she found it, she gripped it with all her might and set off into the storm once again. Spike wasn't sure what he was trying to do any more. He wanted so desperately to strike the windigos circling him, but his claws had no effect and the black sludge that came up instead of his flame only clung to them for an instant before disappearing into their spectral forms. He wasn't sure whether it hurt them or made them stronger. But he kept struggling. Even as the temperature plummeted still further, he struggled. Even as the ice piled up on his scales and the weight became too much to bear, he struggled. When it forced him to the ground under its crushing pressure, when he felt it forming a solid shell around his body that he just couldn't seem to break, he kept thrashing, trying to snap through it with every ounce of strength left in him. There wasn't much of that. He felt drained, like every mote of energy in him was being smothered in snow. The whiteness of the blizzard was being replaced by blackness at the edges of his vision, and he knew he was close to passing out. His thoughts were no longer coherent. They were being smashed to pieces by the clamoring voice in the back of his mind. -she lied she lied she lied she lied- Even calling up the black flame was too much effort now. He opened his mouth, tried to force it up, but was only answered by a thin trickle of bile that hissed past his teeth and scalded the stone beneath him as it pooled. He could feel it there inside, replacing the familiar, comforting warmth of his natural flame with acid, but he could no longer fight to force it out. He felt his good eye begin to drift closed. The last thing he saw before it shut was the windigos moving in. And then there were hooves on the scales of his chest, trying weakly to shake him awake. "Spike!" It was Compass Rose's voice. His eyelid twitched, but he couldn't summon the energy to lift it. There was a series of impacts around his back. He felt them only dimly, and even less dimly registered that somepony was attempting to carve him out of the ice. He felt too drained to care. He didn't even feel cold any more. "Spike, please!" Compass sounded as though she were sobbing. "We need you!" Princess Celestia's face swam into his mind's eye, flanked by the staring ponies who had attended Rarity's funereal procession. We need you to be strong now, Spike. Everypony needed something from him. They always had. Number One Assistant. There was a brief flare of anger again as he thought about all the ponies that had demands for him. They all wanted him to give something, and he always had. A shoulder to cry on, a helping hand, a few moments of his time. Years of his life. His heart. His trust. And the world had done nothing but rob him in return. But even that anger faded in the face of the cold. "It's no use!" Tailspin's voice. "The ice is too thick! I can't get him out!" Spike felt a sudden sensation of cold along the underside of his neck and his jaw. He hadn't realized that he was lowering himself to the ground, but he was there now, all the same. His body stretched out along the street and waited for the ice to creep over it. There was more than one set of hooves against him now, and he realized that all three of them - Pith was there, too, apparently - had gathered around his head and were attempting to shake him awake. Tailspin was screaming at him. "Damn it, Spike, we're not leaving you here! Get up!" He debated trying to find the energy to reply, then decided that it wasn't worth it. The coating of ice had nearly reached his head now. He could feel it pressing down on the scales of his neck. There was another series of dull impacts. One of them was trying to dig him out. He wondered why. Partners. The word seemed important, for some reason. Even through the screaming in the back of his brain, it echoed. And, accompanying it, there was a dim spark of color: a brilliant sky blue. His eye flickered open. Tailspin was there, standing directly in front of his snout and shouting at him. He could no longer hear her words over the howling of the blizzard. The wind was too strong. But he could see the golden necklace under her cloak, and the sparkling, heart-shaped ruby set into it. He lifted his gaze to her face, and saw that she was crying while she shouted to him. There were tracks of ice across her muzzle where the tears had frozen. Slowly, he gathered his legs beneath him, summoned up what strength he could, and heaved himself upward. Tailspin danced back a few steps as Spike began to move. The dragon looked horrible, even through the ice; there was something black and tarry seeping from the gaps in his scales, and from between his teeth. There was enough ice around his back legs that they weren't visible at all, and the rest was growing thicker by the moment. Even with his size and strength, it looked like an impossible burden. But somehow, slowly, he managed to force himself upward. His body shook with the effort of it. She could see his scales shifting as muscles rippled beneath them, shaking with the titanic effort involved. Every crack of the ice was like a gunshot, deafening even above the storm. Stone cracked under his talons. Around them, the windigos screamed, and Tailspin could see the ice piling higher and higher as they tried to keep him pinned. But he kept rising. She wasn't sure how long it took, but eventually Spike was standing upright. He tore his back legs free of the ice with a sound like an explosion and staggered towards her. Compass Rose slipped and slid across the stone to stand with her. A moment later, Pith Helmet limped over to stand on her other side. Spike raised one claw and, with great care, moved it forward to rest the tip against the ruby necklace. There was a flash of blinding red. When Tailspin managed to clear her vision, she saw Spike raise his head, open his mouth, and breathe forth a lance of scarlet flame at the circling windigos. The heat from it was enough to instantly turn the ice around them to steam, but she felt no pain. It was like a gentle, warm breath against her coat. The windigos screeched again and again as the dragon turned his fire on each of them in turn. She watched in silence as they disintegrated beneath the ruby-red torrent, taking the blizzard with them. When it finally ended, when Spike finally shut his jaws and let the flame die away, the four of them were left standing in the middle of the ruins of Canterlot, with no windigos in sight. The ice had gone, leaving nothing but ruined stone around them. There were still storm clouds overhead, but they were just that and no more. There was no sign of the sleet that had blinded them just moments ago. Spike turned back to them and stared for a moment. Tailspin saw that he was swaying, and the black tar was still oozing from his reopened wounds. There was a series of creaking, popping sounds as he began to shrink back down to his normal size. When he was back to being on eye level with Pith, he stopped, swallowed hard, and said, "I'm sorry." And then he toppled. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.