Riley had been staring at the monitor for some time now, the scene outside seemed all the more frightening after a few hours’ rest. The adrenaline had dissipated completely leaving him feeling drained. The handful of slender, pale humanoid things scuttling around the outside of the ship were worrying him deeply and installing a deep sense of terror.
They were, for all intents and purposes, now trapped. Admittedly it was of their own doing, but that didn’t change the fact that they weren’t going anywhere until the things outside went away. He was starting to question the wisdom of locking themselves in. It seemed the better of a set of bad choices at the time, but now he was not so sure.
Their initial plan had been to wait it out until daylight and hope the monsters would hide away under the bright light of day, but something gave him the feeling they would find a way in before then, and once that happened things seemed sure to become particularly unpleasant. His stomach felt sick and empty. It had been a while since they’d eaten much more than field rations.
Davis took his turn to sleep, snoring remarkably daintily for such a large man. Riley was feeling relatively refreshed and alert after a few hours’ rest and encouraged Walas to recover at the same time. The exhausted marine didn’t require much persuasion at all.
“It doesn’t take three men to watch the monitors. If anything happens we’ll wake you both straight away.”
Cronenberg and Riley sat in silence, watching the monitors and peering nervously out of the viewports into the dark. The creatures knew to avoid the windows, but they didn’t seem to know about the cameras and sat in plain view around the back of the ship. Every now and again they could hear thin claws clattering over the hull, and once Riley caught a burst of movement at the top of the front window, a flash of white skin in the reflected light.
“What do you make of them?” he asked Cronenberg.
“Weak, sir. Look how skinny they are, not a muscle in there. They got big teeth, but they never attacked us. Not directly. Lured us out one at a time. Tricked us into doing their work for them.”
Riley nodded in agreement. “There’s at least five of them out there, maybe six, I can’t be sure. I wonder if we should just go out there, guns blazing.”
Cronenberg looked sceptical. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, sir. Bastards took out half of us already. They’re dangerous. Even if they are feeble. Some sort of mind tricks. I couldn’t trust my own eyes, if I went out there again. Not in the dark. Likely to shoot one of you, as much as them.”
Riley chewed his lip thoughtfully. “There’s something there beyond simple trickery, they know what we want to see, what would distract us, or make us snap.”
“Mind readers, sir,” Cronenberg said, without a hint of amusement. “They can read minds.”
Riley frowned, such superstitious nonsense ran against his deeply scientific beliefs. Since his arrival on the peculiar planet, however, he had found his understanding of the universe deeply disturbed. Even if he didn’t call it magic there was clearly a whole new field of science that they didn’t understand, yet. Maybe telepathy wasn’t so far-fetched.
“What did you see?” he asked, thinking.
“My son, sir,” Cronenberg admitted after a long pause. “He was in the forest, playing. Only it couldn’t have been him. He died, four years ago. Raid on Poseidon-8.”
“I’m sorry,” Riley said, looking away. There was something deeply unnerving about the beefy marine’s sorrow. His usual view of the soldiers that he flew with was as machines, strong, dangerous, and emotionless. Expendable. Seeing their softer side was always an unwelcome reminder that they were people too, deep down.
“Do you know what the others saw?”
“Walas said he didn’t see anything. But I ain’t never seen him so white, sir. He was terrified of something.”
A particularly loud clang reverberated around the quiet space, and they both jumped. Another slithering sound and one of the creatures dropped back down into view behind the ship, a rock held in its spindly fingers. Riley relaxed, it would take a lot more than rocks to break through armour built to shrug off Thala weapons.
“What about you, sir, what did you see?”
“Nothing,” he said, truthfully. “And I’m not afraid to admit I was bricking it out there. But I didn’t see anyone. I saw one of them, in the trees above me, not more than a metre away. But it wasn’t messing with my mind.”
“Why?”
“I’m not certain, but I wonder if my implants bother it. Perhaps whatever link it forms to get into your head doesn’t work on me. Everyone else saw things, either their deepest fears, or someone they love. All except me.”
“So you’re immune to their trickery.”
“Maybe it’s metal? Nothing much has happened since we’ve been in here, either. Perhaps they can’t penetrate metal, and the metal in my head acts as a barrier as well.”
“Makes sense, sir,” the marine nodded. “But how’d they get everyone else? Ship had a crew of at least twenty.”
“Twenty-three, in fact. But I think it’s fair to assume that they were all outside already, they wouldn’t have had any warning, like we did, no cause to fear. They didn’t know how dangerous this world was. They’d have set up a defensive perimeter, but they wouldn’t expect mind-readers.”
“Do you think anyone else will come after us?”
“Unlikely, they won’t risk losing anymore resources. I can’t find out though, we never got chance to put out any comms-net relays into orbit before we came down, we don’t have any contact with the base camp from here. We certainly can’t rely on help coming.”
“Can you make us shields or something?” Cronenberg asked, picking up his helmet from where it lay on the ground. They had very little metal in them, made instead of lightweight layered composites designed to absorb and distribute the impact of high velocity rounds.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “And it’s a big risk. The theory’s just that at the moment – a guess. We have no real data. I think, maybe, I should go out alone. See if I can at least get one or two of them. If that works I can run back in, and maybe we’ll risk it with metalwork.”
Cronenberg looked deeply dubious, and Riley suddenly felt as if he could read minds, too. He was aware that compared to them he appeared weak and feeble, although personally he thought he had handled himself quite well in their fights so far, except perhaps the last one. He had survived over a decade of fighting with their space-borne enemies, as well, and he had seen quite a bit of action on that front. He was no weakling, not by a long shot.
He frowned and set his jaw firm. Perhaps it wasn’t such a great idea, he had no plan beyond trying to shoot a couple of them. They were fast and small, so even that was going to be difficult. He suspected that five against one was poor odds, even as feeble as they looked. Their teeth were long and sharp, and if their strategy was to draw them off one at a time then it stood to reason that they were capable of handling one marine at a time.
“Sir, look,” Cronenberg said, interrupting his thoughts and gesturing to the monitor. “Another three have come.”
His heart fell. It was starting to look like the longer they waited the more problems they were going to have when they finally did try to leave. Something strange was happening outside, however.
“What are they doing?” he asked, somewhat rhetorically. He moved to a viewport and peered out of it, just able to see the edge of a group of nine of the things, standing in a cluster and in a state of deep agitation. They were talking to one another, and the external microphones could pick up a high, screeching chatter, punctuated with clicks and hisses.
As one the group turned to face the dark forest, and without warning a cloud of buzzing black things rushed out at them.
“Changelings!” the marine hissed loudly. The other two soldiers were awake very quickly at their mention.
There weren’t as many as before, and there didn’t seem to be any sign of a queen. The newcomers appeared to outnumber the slender white creatures – imps, Riley decided – at least three to one, and the two species fought viciously, the imps holding their own despite the imbalance.
Riley was re-evaluating his conclusion that the imps were weak, they seemed to be effective fighters against the horde. Their sharp, pointed fingers cut through chitin and flesh alike, and soon the sticky green fluid was splattered about again, many changeling bodies still on the churned up ground. The imps had not fared so well, either, only two of them were left fighting, the others still on the ground.
Riley was starting to feel a glimmer of hope in his chest, and the other three had narrowed their eyes. There were still plenty of changelings left, but they had fought them before, and they were an altogether far less intimidating enemy. It would be a hard fight, especially in the dark, but Riley fancied their chances a lot better.
“Gear up, lads, when those two have gone down, we go out there and finish off the changelings. We hold our position at the base of the ship, when it’s clear we run for it. I’m not waiting for more of those imps to come back.”
“Sir,” they agreed as one, strapping on helmets and body armour with practised efficiency. Weapons clicked as their moving parts were checked twice.
“Wait,” he said, holding out an arm and watching the monitors with interest. From the trees there was a soft light coming, and the small speakers in the bridge repeated the sound of shouting, in Equestrian this time. Riley’s ears pricked up and he leant closer, trying to pick out the sounds. The light in the forest grew and grew until a small group of armoured ponies burst forwards, all unicorns, and all with their horns aglow. Riley very nearly cheered.
Hot blasts of plasma flew forwards, catching the changelings and the remaining two imps head-on. They fell rapidly.
“Twilight!” Riley called with childlike excitement, even though she couldn’t hear him. The lavender pony had appeared behind the unicorn regiment, apparently directing it. It was a little bitter to admit they had been rescued by the ponies, but at that moment he couldn’t have been happier to see them.
“Sir,” warned Cronenberg. “Seems awfully convenient.”
“It’s her, I know it. And look, they’re all down.”
Outside the changelings had been driven away, no sign of them save the dead and dying ones on the ground. The dead imps lay inert on the ground, pale white bodies almost glowing in the harsh electric light. Twilight was galloping across the clearing to the ship and stood in front of it, bathed in light, real and whole. She called up to them, her voice clear over the speakers.
“Follow me, before more come!”
“Sir, she’s not real,” Walas warned. “She’s a phantom.”
“No, this is real. They don’t affect me,” he said firmly, tapping his head. Squinting out through the window at her. She was glaring back impatiently, looking around nervously all the time. “This is our chance, fall out.”
Davis moved to stand behind him, blocking the door.
“Don’t you see? She’s followed us here, maybe she realised what we’d be facing. This is the one chance we’ll get.”
“You can’t change the plan, sir,” Walas said. “We wait here, until daylight. This isn’t safe.”
Outside there was a muted scream, thin and pained over the speakers, and Riley whirled around to look out of the crazed, scratched viewport. Twilight had one of the imps on her back, evidently not as dead as it looked. It was bleeding, a dark red blood, almost black, but it also had its sharp fingers locked around her neck, barely hanging on as she thrashed about, trying to dislodge it. Riley’s vision burned and a fiery rage pounded in his veins.
Riley darted around Davis, smashing the door release catch and leaping through the door as soon as it had opened wide enough. The marines were taken aback, unable to react in time and he was out before they could stop him. He slithered down the slanting metal floor until he could drop out of the huge tear in the side of the ship, landing heavily on the soft earth underneath the craft.
The air smelled thick with the now familiar scent of the changelings, their acrid blood wafting on the breeze. Trees creaked in the darkness, a stiff breeze blowing them about, Barely stopping to look around he rushed around the crashed vessel to the front where Twilight was on her knees, gasping for breath. The monster on her back was still holding on, although it looked equally unwell. He sprinted across to it, clubbing it hard over the head with his rifle again and again until it let go with a shriek, sliding off to one side.
He kicked its scrawny body to the side, out of reach of his friend. Twilight was gasping for breath, frantic and distraught. He dropped his gun and held her head in both hands, lifting her up to look at him.
“I’m okay,” she wheezed. “Just need a moment.”
He breathed a sigh of relief and gently felt the side of her neck, there didn’t seem to be any cuts. “What are you doing here?”
“Came for you, silly,” she said with a weak grin.
He closed his eyes and let go of her. “Thankyou, honestly. But you shouldn’t have. That was dangerous.”
“Sir!” came the shout of Cronenberg. Twilight looked up and struggled to her feet, slightly unsteady. Riley glared at the three, and they tried their hardest not to look guilty.
“Good to see you join us,” he snapped acerbically. “Are we good to go?”
Walas and Davis were inspecting a couple of the fallen imps, poking at them with their guns.
“There’s not a mark on them,” Walas called, looking back over his shoulder. “Where are the rest of the ponies?”
“This one either,” Davis replied, rolling it over with his boot. As it rolled onto its front its eyes snapped open, small and black. Too fast for the eye to see it had leapt up and torn Davis’ throat out with razor-sharp claws. The marine gurgled and jumped back.
At the same time Walas cried out in pain, the imp at his feet now clamped across his chest, teeth deep into his shoulder and neck. Walas was a big man and ripped it away then kicked it hard across the clearing. Blood poured from his neck and he stumbled, raising his weapon and gunning down the imp as it scrambled back at him. The little creature’s slender body was utterly devastated by the rounds and it fell down, truly dead this time.
Walas didn’t have much time to react however, as another two of them leapt on him, finishing the job their fellow had failed to do. Cronenberg was running at them, bellowing as he fired his weapon at the pair. The rest of the imps around the field had woken up at the same moment and were bounding across to the marine, surrounding him in a tight knot of slashing claws that fell to the ground sluggishly.
“Run!” screamed Twilight, knocking the imp that jumped her away with a burst of magic and galloping off into the trees. Riley took one look at the scene behind him and rushed after her, heart pounding hard in his chest.
“This way!” she called from up ahead, a glimmering light in the trees. “Hurry!”
“Where are you going? Where are the others you came with?” he yelled, trying to read his navigator at the same time. It seemed confused and pointed the wrong way as he fiddled with it. “What about the others?”
“This way! Hurry!”
His heart pounded harder, this wasn’t right at all.
“Twilight, stop,” he pleaded, slowing to a jog.
“This way!”
The light glimmered brighter in the trees, some way off now. He stopped completely, looking around nervously. She was gone, only the light from the crash site illuminating his back. Things creaked and rustled and cracked in the trees around him. He whispered weakly, “you’re one of them, aren’t you?”
There was no real reply, only the same repeated plea. He shook his head, furious with himself all of a sudden. The whole thing had been a trick, they could project their mirages onto him all the time, they just chose not to. In the clearing, with so many of them, they had constructed an elaborate ruse, complete with fake changelings and ponies. They’d got seven out of eight now, leaving just one.
“Well you’re not getting this one,” he snarled to the darkness, then turned about and fled through the forest, his legs moving as fast as possible, following the directional indicator on his wrist like a life-line. The fear seemed to snap, adrenaline and anger combining to numb his thoughts and he ran with a single-minded purpose. He tried to remember how far it was to the edge of the trees, thinking back to the meandering route they had taken, confused by the monsters even then.
It seemed like it should have been further, but after half an hour of the hardest running he had ever done in his life he found himself standing under the stars once more, no trees above him anymore. There was no reason, of course, that the imps couldn’t follow him out here, but it certainly felt a lot safer and he slowed his pace, fighting back the darkness that plucked at the edges of his vision with each laboured beat of his heart.
In the gloom it was difficult to make anything out, but his navigator claimed he was still heading back towards the base camp. The thought of travelling through the thick forest that surrounded the ponies’ town on his own was a daunting one, but without getting any sort of communication back to the admiral he was left with few other options. It left two real choices, wait until daylight before attempting it and risk spending more time outside alone, or head straight back and risk the forest in the dark.
The third option, he realised dimly, was to head towards Canterlot, and seek out Twilight and the others. At least he wouldn’t be completely alone that way, although it would delay matters significantly, and he was on borrowed time from the admiral already. Williams would not take kindly to him delaying the mission because of cowardice.
No, he reasoned, he was going to go straight back. They were relying on him, and he wasn’t going to let them down. The desire to be around Twilight and the other two couldn’t be allowed to factor into his decisions. They couldn’t help him much, at any rate. He could travel lighter and quieter without them.
What if they didn’t return in time, though? If he could get back before daylight then they stood a good chance of being able to dust off the planet before the three ponies returned from Canterlot, particularly if they also had to travel through the forests as well. Furthermore, if Canterlot really was as pleasant as Twilight’s endless stories of her childhood had led him to believe then they’d be in no rush to leave.
He shook the thought aside, if they never saw one another again then that was for the best. It had already got too complicated. More would only make it worse.
Still, it wasn’t easy to bear.
An hour later he was sat up on a small hillock, leaning back against what seemed to be the collapsing remains of an old stone wall. He had stumbled across what had once been a small village on the side of a hill, he decided, the foundations of stone buildings just discernable through the grasses. He wondered how old it was, as there was very little left.
He had dared light a small fire with some twigs and bits he had scavenged, and the meagre warmth helped comfort him a little as he huddled close to it, nibbling on his last energy bar. It was going to be a miserable day or two of hiking without food, he realised. There was precious little wildlife around to hunt, save a few night birds in the sky, and none of the plants he passed he really recognised. A lot of them looked similar to earth varieties, but eating unknown fruit from an alien planet was pretty much asking for trouble to find him.
At least the moon was up, he reasoned, glowing brightly in the sky. It illuminated the surrounding countryside, allowing him to see some distance if he shielded his eyes from the relative brightness of the fire. There were too many small hills and lone trees for things to hide in to allow him to feel completely comfortable or at ease, but it was unarguably better than the forests. So far nothing good had come of being in a forest. At least when they had been out in the open not a lot seemed to happen to them.
Some movement high up in the sky caught his attention again, and he could just make out the shape of a large bird, soaring slowly in the sky above him somewhere. It was pretty much invisible from beneath except for the shadow it cast over the stars. He watched it circling lazily, wishing he could fly with it. Getting back to the camp would be easy from the air.
He poked sullenly at the fire, trying to control its burn so that it didn’t either get too large and draw attention or go out completely. Lighting it from the damp wood and twigs had been difficult at best. Unbidden his thoughts turned to the three ponies, wondering what they were doing. He looked out across the plains, over the low fog that was forming in patches, wondering which direction they were in. In the far distance the imposing bulk of the mountain they were aiming for rose up from the plains, dark and tall. He wondered how they would get up it, the sides appeared to be sheer. Could the ponies climb? Rainbow Dash could simply fly, but Twilight was afraid of heights and Applejack had no wings at all.
The bird was still circling, although much lower now, seeming larger in the sky. He squinted up at it, switching vision modes through a variety of enhancements to try and make it out. It looked a bit like a large raven, although it was impossible to tell accurately from such a distance. One thing that seemed odd about it was how slowly it was moving, it couldn’t be much higher than a large tree anymore, yet it was moving at a speed which suggested it was a long, long way up.
Some nagging feeling in his stomach made him gulp nervously and his skin crawled. It was still getting bigger, far larger than any normal bird. Hurriedly he kicked at the fire, trying to put it out, but in his haste he simply spread it wide and it flared up briefly like a beacon before burning away. He stamped at the glowing embers, crushing them into the ground and extinguishing them.
He looked up and shouted out in alarm as an impossibly huge bird descended rapidly for him, just pulling up out of a steep dive, its long talons outstretched. It screeched with an ear-splitting sound that echoed back and forth across the plains.
Riley dodged out of the way, grabbing his pack as he did and rolling down the side of the hillock, bumping and cursing the whole way. As he dived he felt the tip of a talon scratch across his face but he had no time to stop and investigate as the world tumbled past, over and over like a wild fairground ride.
There was another screech and a powerful gust of wind rushed past him as the unrealistically large bird banked hard overhead, turning around nimbly in the air despite its size. He looked around wildly, desperate for cover, but his very reason for camping there in the first place had been because of a lack of places for other things to hide.
There was nothing for it this time, and as the bird came at him he glumly recalled all the things he had promised to do before he died, how he always said he would leave the service before he got too old. There were not many old people who had been in the space fleet. They tended not to live that long enough to get old. For reasons exactly like this, he now realised.
The bird did not eat him there and then, however, and simply grabbed him tightly in its talons, each one long enough to wrap around him completely. With powerful beats of its huge wings it took to the skies, ascending rapidly and making his ears pop. He laid as still as he could, hoping it wouldn’t decide suddenly that it didn’t want him after all. Another thought came to mind, of a type of bird on Earth that would prey on snails by picking them up high and dropping them on stones to crack their shells. He gulped nervously.
The flight itself was quite pleasant, he realised, after he relaxed a little. There was little he could do at this point, so he simply gave up trying and watched the darkened landscape with detached interest, spotting the rivers and lakes pass by far below, the moonlight reflected brightly from their flat surfaces. He couldn’t see a huge amount of the ground since the bird was holding him at an angle, looking at the horizon behind them.
If he turned his head carefully he could just about see behind him, and it seemed as though luck was with him this time since they seemed to be heading for the mountains, specifically they were going straight towards the Canterhorn, its bulk growing larger by the minute.
The wind tearing past him was fast and very cold, and by the time the bird landed somewhere on the side of the mountain he was numb all over. The cut on his face throbbed uncomfortably, but he had still not been able to investigate it, pinned in as he had been. The bird dropped him from a few metres above the ground and he landed in a moderately soft pile of twigs and fur, the contents of his pack digging into his lower back uncomfortably. There was a crunching from somewhere underneath him and he recognised the sunbleached shape of old bones, mostly smaller animals.
Riley realised now where he was, a nest, food for the bird’s young, most likely. He cautiously peered around, worried about appearing too alive in case the bird decided he was in need of further assistance in changing that particular situation. The creature itself was nowhere to be seen, however, and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
He sat up, trying to will some feeling back into his senseless limbs. The nest, at least, was sheltering him from the wind and was much warmer, helping him no end. Cautiously he crawled across the uneven, squishy floor of the basket, wincing at every crackle of sound, and peered down over the edge.
His breath caught in his throat when he realised how high up he was. The nest must have been perched nearly at the very top of the immense spire of rock. Down below he could see a couple of other nests, one of which had two smaller versions of the bird in, asleep and unmoving. The parent was in a third, snuggled up amongst its feathers and watching over the plains far below.
With a start he fell back, certain it would see him. He looked over the other side, spotting the shape of a vast city down below, cut into the side of the mountain. There was no mistaking it as Canterlot, Twilight had spoken endlessly of it. He fancied he could probably draw an accurate map from her descriptions alone. A river ran down through its middle, dropping in a vast waterfall off the side, fed by another cascade that came down from somewhere below him and he briefly wondered exactly how so much water was coming from so high up.
The nest was pushed up firmly against a vertical rock face. He squinted into the night, trying to make out its texture but it looked flat and featureless in the darkness. He dared not use his torch for fear of alerting the parent bird, but it didn’t look as though there was any escape in that direction. Even if there had been good footholds he knew he was no climber and without gear he’d surely fall to his messy death below.
“Alpha to Collins, come in, over,” crackled his earpiece, and he jumped in shock, not expecting to hear any voices up here. The signal was weak and intermittent to the point of not existing, but it was definitely the base talking and the sound of their voices cheered him up immediately. Up at such an altitude he must have some amount of line of sight back to the ships and very favourable atmospheric conditions.
“Collins to Alpha, over,” he whispered, hoping they would be able to make him out.
“Channel secured. Your beacon has come back online. What is your location and situation?”
“Am I glad to hear you guys,” he said cheerfully, forgetting protocol for a moment. “Transmitting location, situation is tenuous. Currently stranded at the top of the mountain. I am in possession of the warp core. My team has been lost. I have been taken prisoner by giant bird.”
Ordinarily he might have struggled to say the last phrase without laughing, but after their time on the alien world things like this had started to see almost normal. The operator on the other end of the channel apparently thought the same and didn’t question the sensibility of the statement.
“Acknowledged, lieutenant-commander Collins. Admiral Williams has instructed that your mission is of the highest priority. You are instructed to take every measure possible to return the device to base. Resources are extremely scarce but we will send a local pegasus wing to your location to assist.”
“Understood, Alpha. Be aware the giant bird is of some fifteen metres wingspan and very fierce.”
“Acknowledged. Pegasus wing will be briefed.”
“What’s the situation there?”
The voice on the other end of the connection switched to a less formal tone, and he could imagine he was talking to a real person once again. “Dire, sir, the town is under renewed attack from unknown aggressors. Situation looks bleak. Casualties include fifty-three units and one frigate. The remainder are grounded. At the moment we are relying heavily on local assistance, but they are beginning to break apart and have taken heavy casualties. If you don’t hurry back soon, sir, there may not be a town to return to.”
“Can you clarify? What’s attacking?”
There response was a few garbled words and a lot of compression noise. He repeated his question a few more times, but nothing came of it. He cursed under his breath, fiddling with the communicator on his wrist to no avail. After that there was not a lot to do other than wait and hope the ponies they were sending would be able to reach him in time. He had no idea how soon the young birds would wake up and want their breakfast.
He lay back against the wall of the nest, watching the other side with narrowed eyes. He resolved to stay awake, despite how tired he felt. The bird could come back at any time to swipe him away, and he was determined to at least put up a struggle. If it came to the worst then a quick jump off the side might be a less messy death than the alternative. His stomach felt tight at the idea, the despairing thoughts of a hopeless mind.
The soft call of a pony woke him, and he opened his eyes to find someone – somepony – peering closely at him, face mere inches from his own. He stifled a gasp and scooted back a foot. She smiled widely at him, now he was awake and presumably not dead.
“Hi!” she whispered cheerfully. “I’ve come to help you!”
He looked around, peering behind the grey pegasus. Now that he thought about it she seemed familiar, frazzled blonde mane and tail still recognisable in the glow from the moon. “I know you,” he said.
“Yup, you do, I delivered your letter. I deliver everypony’s letters. Derpy Hooves, at your service, mister!”
The pegasus’ cheery manner was a little contagious and he offered her a weak smile. “Where are the rest of you?”
Her face fell and she looked down suddenly, as if remembering something she had previously forgotten. “They’re all gone,” she mumbled sadly, pawing at the dusty, twig-strewn floor with a forehoof. “There were monsters in the air, but we were told it was very important we get you, so we flew through them anyhow.”
He looked at her closer, she had a deep scratch all the way down her left side, the fur stained with her blood, dried in long streaks from the wind. She held one of her hindlegs at an angle, another deep scratch visible across the knee.
He shuffled closer, inspecting her injuries with his flashlight on its lowest setting. It didn’t look all that deep, just very long, and the exertion of flying had caused it to bleed a lot. “How did you get away?”
“I’m the fastest,” she told him, sitting down in the nest. Her pretty eyes were wide and wet. “I flew away. I left them behind.”
“Do you know how to fight, Derpy?” he asked, trying to catch her attention.
She shook her head sadly, blinking her huge eyes to clear the tears that were building. He felt immensely sorry for her.
“Then you did the right thing,” he said, trying his hard to sound soothing. “You should never have been through any of this, thankyou for coming to help me.”
“What if they’re…” she stopped and whispered the final word even quieter, barely audible, “…dead?”
“Hey now,” he said quickly, reaching out and taking one of her forehooves in both hands, giving it a tender squeeze. “Don’t think about it, a lot of people, a lot of ponies, have died in this horrible mess. But a lot have survived against terrible odds as well. There’s every chance they fought on and survived, all so you could escape and fulfil your mission.”
“Mission, yes,” she said, sniffing noisily. He glanced nervously over the edge of the nest again, looking for signs of movement. “I won’t fail my mission, they’ll see.”
“They?”
“The other ponies, they don’t think I can get anything right. But I got this right, I found you!”
Derpy seemed easily distracted from her problems. He wasn’t very confident in her ability to help him, however. She was not the largest of ponies, and he was quite heavy, not to mention she was clearly injured. “Did you bring rope or anything?” he asked, a little hopefully. She was carrying a very small set of streamlined grey saddlebags and he found it hard to imagine there was anything very useful in there.
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “Just food. But I can carry you down! You’ll be just like a big parcel.”
The food she had brought turned out to be cake, which, while not the usual sort of supplies he was used to, was very welcome and quite delicious. Derpy seemed to devour her rather large piece in seconds, and he wondered where it all went. He supposed being a delivery pegasus required a lot of calories. It certainly cheered her up no end, and a short rest had let her get her breath back.
She was fiercely adamant in her ability to carry him, and in all honesty he couldn’t see any other way to get out of the current situation. The cliff face looked just as sheer as before, and to make matters worse the moon had moved around in the sky so that the side of the mountain he was interested in was getting rapidly darker.
He returned from peering out over the edge of the nest. The bird appeared to be asleep, at least he couldn’t make out the glitter of its beady eyes anymore. He maintained hope that its hearing wouldn’t be acute, evolved as it was for hunting from high up where sharp vision was a far more important attribute.
“How do we do this?” he asked, looking at her expectantly.
“Um,” she said, looking at him. “The plan was two of us to carry you in a harness. But we lost that. And there’s only me.”
“But you think you can carry me?” He looked at her nervously. If she stretched out to her full length she would still be shorter than him, ignoring her tail. There was no practical way she would be able to support his bulk, but then it didn’t look as though the pegasi should be able to support their own weight, either.
“Easy!” she chirped loudly. She immediately clamped a hoof over her mouth. “Sorry. Maybe you could lie on my back, between my wings, and hug me with your forelegs?”
Somewhat haltingly he did as she asked, feeling a little ridiculous. He was barely six foot tall, but that was still far taller than most of the ponies were long. He awkwardly rested his weight on her and she grunted slightly, pushing back up with her legs. She was warm and soft, and so close to her he could smell the same sweet, subtle scent that all the ponies seemed to produce.
“Are you certain about this?” he asked nervously as she experimentally spread her wings, giving them a gentle flap to test. Under all that fur he could feel powerful muscles tensing. Maybe this could work, after all.
She nodded then craned her neck around to look at him over her own shoulder. “Yup, I’ll get you back safely, I promise,” she said, still confident. She wobbled across to the edge of the nest, twigs and woody material crunching underhoof. She pushed herself up onto the rim with a grunt and they both peered down into the gloom. He had a sickening vision of the spires of the city far below and his stomach lurched uncomfortably. He had done several parachute jumps in training, and this felt very much like that, only far less secure.
“I don’t think this is going to…” he said, about ready too call it off, but he was cut short by Derpy kicking off with a powerful push from her hind legs, her wings spreading out to catch the wind. He tried his very hardest not to scream like a little girl, but a few squeaks came out anyhow, and in the circumstances he wasn’t sure anyone could really blame him.
The wind tore at his hair and he hung on around the pegasus’ neck for his very life as she fell like a stone, pointing nearly straight down, her mane whipping at his face and neck. The roofs and buildings of Canterlot came rushing up to meet them and he could feel the powerful muscles in her chest and sides trembling as she tried to pull up into a glide.
Agonisingly slowly they began to level off, skimming the tops of the buildings, almost close enough for him to touch. He marvelled at how such small wings could keep so much mass afloat. There was more than simple aerodynamics at play here, that much was clear.
“We’ve have to land,” she shouted back at him over the top of the roaring wind, breathless and panting. He nodded enthusiastically, trying to loosen his involuntary stranglehold on the poor pegasus. “You’re a very heavy parcel.”
He didn’t have a lot of time to be offended as they came in for a landing on a long, wide street. It was covered in bits of fallen stone and debris, and they were still travelling dangerously fast. Derpy wisely decided that this was a terrible place to land and aborted at the last minute with a lurch that nearly brought his cake back up.
Her whole body trembled as she tried desperately to ascend, but with his extra weight she just couldn’t gain altitude. The street was twisting, the crumbling buildings rushing by and getting closer and closer on each side. He clenched his jaw, seeing the end of the avenue coming up. At the speed they were going they’d both end up a broken mess on the stone buildings.
He glanced around, urgently looking for a way out. They seemed to be coming up on a very old street market of some sort, collapsed wooden stalls lined the street, some still standing after all this time. It was hard to tell at the speed they were going and in the very dim light, but they looked fairly rotten, and they were definitely softer than the alternative.
“Veer right!” he called loudly and she obeyed immediately, straining to keep them off the street. He swallowed hard and leapt from her back, curling into a tight ball as he fell.
The first impact was the worst and shaved off the majority of his speed, the ancient, soft wood exploding around him into splinters the size of his arm. He hit the ground hard, rolling several times until he hit the next stall. He took out another two after that before finally coming to a rest.
For a moment he lay still, not daring to move. Everything hurt, his ears were ringing and he could hardly breathe from the shock of the initial impact. One at a time he stretched out his limbs, praying each time that they’d respond correctly. His legs both worked, which was an enormous relief. The first crash had been right across his back and he was wearing a bare minimum of armour. Breaking his spine would have been the end for sure.
Shakily he lay back on the hard, splinter-covered ground and grinned up at the dark sky. He was alive, and on solid ground. A panicked fluttering brought a grey pegasus landing right on top of him and he laughed like a maniac, hugging her tightly while she squirmed.
“You’re alive!” she cried happily into his chest, strong, trembling hooves finding their way underneath him to hug him back. “You’re alive…”
“I’ve never felt so alive,” he added, releasing her. “That was beyond terrifying.”
“You should eat less cake, mister,” she said, sitting up like a large dog and poking him reproachfully in the belly with a hoof. She was sat on his legs, but she hardly seemed to weigh a thing.
“I warned you I was heavy,” he objected, still unable to wipe the smile from his lips. “Thankyou, though. That was very dangerous.”
“Nah, it was easy,” she said boastfully, dusting herself off. “Could have carried us back to Ponyville, no problem.”
“I’m sure you could,” he laughed.
He sat up carefully, wincing at the pain it brought. He didn’t think there was a single bit of him that didn’t hurt.
Derpy slid off his lap and gasped in alarm. She was pointing at his side. He followed her gaze, squinting in the darkness. He could feel something warm and wet, and he gingerly felt the area with trembling fingers.
There was a big piece of wood sticking out of the side of his abdomen. A sense of terror began to fill him and he shakily felt around behind him. It had not gone all the way through, but there was no telling how deep it had pierced. He swore and fumbled around with his other hand for his torch. He clicked it on, briefly blinding himself and peered down to examine the wound.
There was a lot of blood, he realised, the entire jacket under the hole was covered in it to the hem. Derpy was watching him in horror as he carefully shrugged his other arm out of the jacket, pulling it off and around his bag. It was then only attached to him by the shard of wood, and he grimaced. He should really pull it out and cauterise the hole to save bleeding to death. If it had done any damage to his organs then he would just have to hope they could deal with it back at the camp. For now stopping the flow of blood was most important.
He pulled at it tentatively, and a wave of pain more intense than anything he had ever experienced caused him to arch his back and moan through clenched teeth. He stopped pulling and panted, squeezing his eyes shut.
“I can’t do it,” he said, reaching for the omni-tool in his rucksack. “You’ve got to pull it out.”
The pegasus squeaked and held up a wing in front of her face. “It’ll hurt you!”
“I can’t leave it in there, Derpy,” he said, fixing her gaze. “Please?”
She inched closer, reaching out a trembling hoof.
“As fast as you can,” he said, bunching up the arm of his jacket and biting down on it. Time seemed to slow, and he could feel the vibration through his insides when she touched the end, taking it carefully in her grip. He nodded, still looking away, and there came a jerk and a pain even more unbearable than the first. He screamed in agony, the tough fabric falling from his mouth.
His cry seemed to echo around the eerie, deserted city, bouncing off the walls for what seemed an eternity. As the sound died away it was answered by a screech from high up above them, the sound of the huge bird searching for them. Derpy flung the bloody stick aside and turned back to Riley with a wild, panicked look in her eyes.
He was busy, his hands shaking as he used the medical tool to burn the insides of the ragged, bleeding hole. The flow of blood lessened, but the pain continued on and on.
“Roc!” Derpy cried, nosing his shoulder urgently. “We have to hide!”
He tried to stand but that action caused him to double over in pain again and Derpy pushed herself under him, helping lift him to his feet. He grabbed his pack and jacket on the way up, the stick still swinging grotesquely from the fabric. Everything was swaying and he could hardly focus ahead.
The pain was intense to the point of almost passing out, but up above the louder and louder screeching of the roc above them kept him awake as his aide helped him along, aiming for a gaping black doorway in a stone building nearby. Together they hobbled through it and to the back of the cluttered room inside where he slumped against the wall and fell to the floor, one hand pressed tightly over the wound.
“Are you okay?” Derpy asked anxiously, nosing at him in the dark. “Please!”
“I’m okay,” he managed, every word and movement a symphony of pain. He had never suffered so, and he was worried about just how much it hurt. He had seen other men injured in similarly horrific ways during his service, and they hadn’t made it look this bad. Had he damaged something more seriously? Wasn’t adrenaline supposed to stop it hurting?
Outside in the street the cries of the roc could be heard getting stronger and then quieter, then stronger again as it flew circles overhead, searching for him. It continued for some minutes until a new sound shattered the air: a roar so loud that it caused plaster and brickwork to crumble and fall around them, sending clouds of dust billowing.
Riley covered his ears against the awful sound, and Derpy cowered against him, a shaking bundle of fur and feathers, her wings wrapped around them both.
“Dragon!” she hissed in his ear. “There’s a dragon as well!”
“Great,” he squeezed out between clenched teeth. He gently pushed her away and fumbled around in the near absolute darkness for his pack, looking for the medical kit again. There were painkillers in there, the serious sort, designed for soldiers who needed to get up again and carry on fighting, no matter what. They were dangerous, but he could barely stay awake through the pain, and that wasn’t helping anything.
The roar came again as he pressed the injector against the underside of his arm and pressed the trigger. With a cool stinging sensation he felt the drugs enter his bloodstream, and almost immediately the sensation of pain lessened as chemical inhibitors bound themselves to the receptors in his brain, blocking the signals effectively. He breathed a dreamy sigh of relief.
Outside there was some sort of auditory battle going on, the dragon and roc screaming at one another. He couldn’t see what was happening, but from the intensity of the sounds Riley strongly suspected the unseen dragon had the upper claw. His conclusion was punctuated by an enormous gout of flame that split the sky, and while he couldn’t see it directly the reflections outside the doorway and empty windows were enough to demonstrate its intensity.
Derpy clutched him tighter and he wound an arm around her, giving her a gentle squeeze and stroking the tangled hair on the back of her neck. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “They don’t know we’re here. We just have to keep quiet until they’re gone.”
“I’m scared,” she mumbled into his shoulder.
“Me too,” he admitted, quite truthfully.
“I couldn’t really fly us back to Ponyville,” she said with a sniff, quite unexpectedly, and he patted her neck.
He gently untangled himself from her and crept on all fours to the doorway. Everything felt numb and strange, there was little sensation under his hands and feet, the strong chemicals acting a little like an anaesthetic as well as simple pain inhibitors. Unsteadily he raised himself up against one of the windows beside the door, peering out into the street.
There was no sign of the roc, nor the invisible dragon, and there was only the strange smell of what he could only imagine dragon-fire smelled like. Almost sweet, with an undertone like burned fruit. The sound of soft hooves on stone behind him alerted him to the sound of Derpy following, coming to peer out next to him.
“What do you see?” she asked in a hushed whisper.
“Nothing,” he said. “I need to find Twilight and the others, they were on their way here.”
“You have to rest!”
He shook his head, stopping here would spell death for him, there was nothing here, no people, no ponies, no help. His only chance was to find Twilight and hope she had a plan for getting back.
“I don’t like it here,” she said eventually, slinking back from the window. “It’s too empty.”
“Isn’t it just,” he said. “Twilight seemed to think it’d be a bustling city.”
Derpy nodded. “It was. I was here only a year ago, for the summer sun celebrations with my daughter. She loved it here. I just don’t know what’s happened to it. Where have all the ponies gone?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “You left your daughter behind to come and help me?”
She nodded again, sadly this time. “She is very brave. My little muffin.”
“Is she with her father?” he asked softly.
Derpy shook her head. “No. He father left a long time ago. It’s just me, and Dinky now. She is with Miss Cheerilee, right now, with lots of the other foals. They’re all very afraid. There’s so much violence and fear back in Ponyville right now. I hope they are all okay. I couldn’t bring myself to live without her.”
“I’m sorry you had to leave her behind for me,” he said, a heavy sadness in his heart. “I’m so sorry for all of this.”
“It’s okay,” she said, her voice brighter again. “I will see her soon, I know it in my heart.”
“You sure will. If you want to return right now then you may, I won’t keep you here, you owe me nothing, and you’ve already done so much for me. I’ll be okay from here.”
There was a pause in the darkness, and he could imagine her looking torn. “I don’t know if I could get back safely,” she said, slowly. He wasn’t entirely sure she believed him. “It’s very dangerous in the skies right now. Especially around the town. I think I’d rather travel back with you. If that’s okay.”
He nodded and patted her shoulder. Things were going to be okay. His mind was as clear as it was going to get considering the cocktail of drugs he had introduced into his bloodstream, and they were alive. They would find the other three ponies, and then they’d be on their way back.
“Derpy,” he said soberly, turning his torch on a dim setting for the road outside and catching her attention. “If I don’t survive, will you promise to take this rucksack back to the town and give it to the humans? It’s very important, it’s the reason I’m out here.”
She nodded, a deep frown on her face. He resolved not to fail, not to make her carry another burden.
“We’d better get moving, before these painkillers wear off.” He reluctantly climbed to his feet, swaying a little before steadying himself against the wall. “This place looks huge, I don’t know how we’ll find them.”
“I could fly around and look for them,” Derpy suggested, and he shook his head.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. There’s at least two very big, very angry things in the sky already. We should keep to the streets and the shadows, and just hope there’s nothing else nasty in this city. You say you’ve been here before? Where should we look?”
“The palace,” Derpy said without hesitation. “They’d go to the palace, to find the princesses. But I don’t think they’re here. They would never let it get so untidy. Very careless. Broken things everywhere. Tsk.”
They crept out into the moonlit streets, keeping to the shadows and following the derelict streets inward, towards the imposing face of the mountain and the cascading waterfalls that glittered in the night, forming a beautiful lunar rainbow where the spray caught the moonlight.
There was a deathly stillness to the city, and a layer of dust and detritus that suggested it had been that way for countless decades. Neither of them wanted to make any sound and trod very carefully, trying not to stumble over the blocks of masonry that littered the cobbled streets. As well as the general decay from time there were signs of fighting. They found broken arrows, their wooden shafts rotting away and blackened, melted spots in the stonework, scars and cracks in the brickwork.
As they walked the painkillers were already starting to wear off, and Riley could begin to feel the ache of the wound, a deep, crushing feeling. He limped, and Derpy helped him along, steadying him with a strong wing against his good side. Up ahead the palace gardens loomed, tiered beds overgrown with weeds and sprawling vines. Derpy explained how beautiful the gardens used to be, and the parties the princesses used to hold there. It was a far cry from the crumbling, overgrown thing it had become, thick with brambles and briars and dark corners. She rambled on and on, seeming more desperate to talk as he fell quieter with each pained step, and the distraction was welcome, her soft, musical voice something to focus on.
The palace itself was raised up above the city, overlooking it with its many ornate spires and dark windows. It was like something lifted straight out of a fairytale, magnificent even in its dilapidated state. Just looking around Riley could get a sense of the grandeur and life the place had once held in its carved marble embrace.
A long, curved staircase took them up to the gates of the palace itself, long since fallen from their enormous hinges. The space inside was dark and unlit, the floor scattered with dust but free of any large stones or other clutter. The place appeared in better repair than the rest of the city, whether down to maintenance or simply sturdier construction he couldn’t tell.
There was an odd scent in the air, too, a musty, organic smell, and Riley hesitated, suddenly nervous of what was inside. So many things had attacked them that he was wary of ambush at any point now. He didn’t think he could survive another encounter, he was literally on his last breath.
“I’ve been here before, too,” Derpy said wistfully, looking up at the ceiling far above them, lost to them in the darkness. “At the annual gala. Twilight Sparkle and the other five heroes were here, too. Everything went rather wrong, but it was very funny.”
“I think she told me about that,” he said, smiling at the memory of the stories she had told him. “They caused chaos, by the sound of it.”
“Not this sort of chaos,” she said sadly. “The happy sort.”
They continued forward, despite the peculiar musty smell that was growing stronger with each step and he had the sensation of not being alone any longer. Riley gently pulled her sideways until they were against the side wall, scooting around the edge of statues and marble pillars, but hidden in the shadows. The silence felt heavy and ominous.
“It is highly unusual to see such a plump pony here,” said a slow, lazy voice from somewhere ahead of them. It was no ordinary voice, however, the volume and pitch were extreme. The low bass rumble seemed to shake the air around them, dislodging small pieces of stone from high up that clattered down around their heads. Riley had a sudden sinking feeling in his gut that they had wandered into the worst possible place in the city.
He shone his torch into the darkness up ahead, but it was like a candle in a cavern and did nothing beside reflect off a few shiny objects in the distance, twinkling like a starfield in a million different colours. Two very large, very close things suddenly flashed at him, partially obscured by large eyelids.
“And what, or who, may I ask, is this?”
Riley could feel the air in his chest vibrate with each thunderous syllable. Derpy whimpered somewhere behind him. There was no mistaking what sat before them in the darkness, the dragon from earlier, the one who had driven off the fierce roc. The phrase ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’ leapt to mind.
“Here, let me help you with that light,” the air rumbled. A sudden spit of flame roared across the open space, impacting with a cluster of enormous candles set against a pillar. It burst into flames, illuminating a small corner of the space. More and more flames licked out, each roaring like a mountain river after a storm.
Before them stood a beast bigger than Riley had ever seen before. He towered above them, and yet he was still lying on the ground, mighty pointed head resting on his forepaws. His hide glittered darkly in the flickering candlelight, and terrifying, curved fangs protruded from his scaled lips. A long, forked tongue licked at the air. He lay on a bed of gems and precious metal, a true hoard. Riley had never seen so much wealth in one place.
At least now he knew why the city was deserted. Riley consoled himself with the fact that the monster could speak, which suggested that maybe he could also be reasoned with. “We mean you no harm,” he said clearly and loudly.
The dragon laughed, raising his head and shaking the very foundations with his mirth. There was nothing Riley could ever have done that could hurt something so large. “That is very true, strange being. Tell me, what are you?”
“I am a human,” he said, drawing the word out.
“Ah, man,” the beast said. “I thought you looked familiar. I recall some old, dusty legends, almost lost to time itself. You are, I believe, a fairytale made real. Quite odd.
“What is your purpose here? I understand it is you who enraged that rascal up on the rock, yes?”
Riley nodded mutely, every word seemed to knock the breath from him, yet all signs suggested the dragon was speaking quietly. “She and I have an agreement, of sorts. I allow her to stay there, and take her pick of the local vermin, and in return she must not bother me with her petty problems and grievances. Why do you give her cause to disturb my slumber?”
“She intended to eat me,” Riley said a little indignantly, his voice a few registers higher than he was expecting. “I had no wish to disturb you. Please, allow us to leave you in peace. I did not know this city was occupied.”
“Nonsense,” the dragon rumbled. “You must stay, I have not had the pleasure of polite visitors for quite some time. Eighteen years, to be precise. Usually, those who haul themselves up to this desolate, barren place have only one simple goal, the acquisition of valuables. My hoard, you see, is quite the target.”
“I can assure you, we have no such intention,” Riley stammered, trying to ignore the glittering piles. He was not a man generally interested in material wealth beyond what he needed to live comfortably, but some primal instinct deep-rooted in his soul couldn’t help but want to get closer, to touch and let it run through his fingers.
“I see your heart, human,” the dragon rumbled, low and threatening, his eyes narrowed to slits and burning with a light that seemed to come from deep inside. “However, I do believe you harboured no interest in my prize before you set eyes upon it. I hold that it is a commendable and natural instinct to wish to acquire such brilliance.”
“What do you do with it?”
“Why, admire it, of course,” the dragon said, as if it were obvious, and dragging his tail dreamily across the surface of a pile to scatter coins and gemstones the size of Riley’s hand. Riley’s gaze at last travelled past the treasure and he spotted the enormous stacks of books that he had first mistaken for pillars. They stretched up into the darkness, towering above them.
“Ah,” said the dragon, following his gaze. “I see you have spotted the true valuables in this hall. Knowledge, a far more important treasure. The key to a thousand doors, and the basis of a once powerful civilisation.”
“It’s an impressive collection,” Riley admitted, growing bolder and stepping out into the light. Derpy stayed hidden, terribly afraid of the dragon. Riley was feeling more confident by the second, the ancient beast seemed more interested in talking than anything else. “May I ask, what happened here?”
“Here?” the dragon repeated, the simple question making the floor vibrate. “Do you mean, ‘in this hall’, or ‘why is the city empty’?”
Riley looked around awkwardly, the dragon had the carefree nature of someone without any restraints on their time, he had all the time in the world by the look of him. He, on the other hand, needed to get a move on and find the other ponies before they stumbled across the palace and got caught up with this strange monster as well.
“In this hall everything happened. A long, long time ago now. Little of note has occurred here for over two hundred true years. Unless, of course, you count my magnificent hoard. This used to be the seat of power in the nation once known as Equestria. The goddess of the sun and her nocturnal sister resided here, directing the fate of the countless creatures that inhabited this realm.”
“Celestia and Luna?” he asked, recalling their names from Twilight’s gushing stories. The dragon looked wistful and smiled, an almost vicious curl of his lips.
“Oh, now there are some names I haven’t heard mentioned in a hundred years.”
Derpy gasped behind him.
“Does that surprise you, little one?” the dragon rumbled, peering around Riley with his head at an angle, one great slitted eye peering into the shadows. Derpy shrank further back. “I haven’t forgotten about you, I can smell you, in the shadows. I can smell your fear. You have flown long and hard, have you not?
“My, are you two not a conundrum. From where have you travelled that the name of Celestia, goddess eternal, still carries weight? No land near here, I am certain of it.”
“We’ve come from Ponyville, seeking some friends,” Riley said, moving sideways to hide the terrified pegasus.
The dragon’s reaction was sudden and deeply unexpected. He hissed angrily, drawing back from them with fire licking around his mouth and his eyes glowing brightly. “Do you mock me, mortal?” his voice thundered, and Riley put his hands to his ears to block out the terrible sound. “That place has not existed for three hundred years, to mention it in these halls is an insult.”
Riley swore in English and the dragon glared down at them, thrusting his head forwards again, his eyes still alight and intense. His entire will was focused on Riley and his head throbbed with the intensity of the dragon’s gaze. “It’s the truth,” he insisted loudly, trying to quell the shaking in his legs.
“Tell me your name, mortal,” the dragon snapped. “I would have it before this conversation takes a darker path.”
He straightened his back, ignoring the ache inside. “Lieutenant-commander Riley Collins, first Jovian space fleet.”
“Those words mean nothing, Riley Collins,” the dragon hissed. “I find your presence here abhorrent. You are not of this place.”
“Correct,” he said. “I come from another planet, a billion miles from here.”
The dragon clearly sneered, disbelieving. “You are a fairytale, human, you come from no place. You are an illusion, an apparition. Some witch or deviant has sent you here to taunt me.” He looked around, head whipping back and forth, and when he spoke again it was in a voice that shattered the very air. “Show yourself!”
Riley frowned deeply, his legs had regained some of their strength again and he stood tall. “I assure you, dragon, I am as real as you. And I have had some considerable experience with illusions of late.”
Their host’s head snapped back around, eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “The name Ponyville has not been uttered by any living creature for hundreds of years. Tell me, what makes you different?”
“I can’t answer your question,” he said. “All I can do is assure you that it’s very real, and is currently under attack from many strange things.”
“Forgive me if I am disinclined to believe you,” he replied, bringing his head even closer. His hot breath wafted across Riley’s face, but instead of the smell of rotting meat or sulphur it was the same scent of burned fruit. He seemed to calm slightly, muscles visible relaxing. “However, I will honour you with the time to explain yourselves. Little pony, step out here where I may see you.”
Derpy shrank back against the stonework. Riley fancied she had hoped the dragon had forgotten about her, and for his part he would have been happy if that had been the case. The innocent young mother didn’t deserve anymore hardship. Instead he held his hand out to her. “Come out, he won’t harm you. I’m beside you.”
The dragon sneered again, as if the thought of Riley being able to protect her held any weight at all. Fortunately he kept his scaly mouth closed. Derpy cautiously crept forwards, keeping low to the ground, legs bent. She scuttled over and pressed herself against Riley’s side, leaning into him. He could feel her trembling like a leaf and instinctively put a hand on the side of her neck, hoping to calm her. His fingers worked their way into her fur, scratching gently, and he felt her relax under his touch.
The dragon cocked his head to one side and studied her closely. At last he spoke, his voice softer now, barely even echoing around the hall anymore. “It has been three hundred years since I saw you last,” he said slowly, and Riley realised the great beast was in shock. “I didn’t think I would ever meet you again, not in this lifetime.”
Derpy looked up at him, curiosity beginning to override her fear at last. She clearly had never met this monster before. Riley watched with cautious interest.
“I have had many names over the countless decades,” he continued softly, staring at some point behind them in distant recollection. “For I am many things to many different tribes. But the first name I ever took has always held a special place in my hearts.
“My name, Miss Hooves, is Spike.”
Derpy stood with her mouth hanging open, a look of incredulity on her face. Riley blinked in confusion, the name meant little to him. Spike turned to Riley, his gaze fierce and intense.
“Now, my mysterious human friend, you will tell me everything.”