//------------------------------// // The First Shot // Story: A Hero's Cocktail // by Melon Hunter //------------------------------// A Hero's Cocktail By Melon Hunter & AnonMD1641(Z) Chapter 1: The First Shot “Get out of the bar, you drunken bum!” Hero. “You should be ashamed of yourself!” Saviour. “Don’t show your scaly face around here again!” Drunkard. All in all, it was turning out to be an average day for Spyro the Dragon. He turned to his impromptu audience, incensed by their catcalls and howls. How he wanted to show them what he was; what he was capable of. He opened his mouth to shout them down, offer a word of protest. “BLLUUGGH!” His stomach disagreed. “Ugh! Get him out of here!” A swift boot to the flank launched him through the door. He landed facedown outside, rain streaming down his discoloured purple scales. He crawled over to a bin and hung his head over it. “Uhhh...” Where had it all gone so wrong? He had saved the land from Gnasty Gnorc, Ripto and The Sorceress! He should have had statues across the land proclaiming his glory, not a humiliating night spent in a rain-soaked alley! The downpour swept away his tears of failure. “Wow. And I thought I did badly after the last game,” came an amused voice. Spyro turned his head, slowly, painfully, towards its source. A black dragonness stood at the entrance to the alley. “Cynder? What the fying fluck are you d’wing hrre?” he slurred. His claws lost their grip on the bin, and he began to slide towards the ever-welcoming concrete. “Woah there! I think you’ve had a few too many, Spyro,” she laughed, catching him as he fell. “No seriously, this in’t even t’right continuinuity...” “Spyro. Shush. That wall’s taken enough damage tonight,” Cynder berated him. “Whh?” “Never mind. Just something a pink friend of mine once told me. We should probably get you out of this rain...” “Mmmm...” Spyro mumbled his approval and drooled on her shoulder slightly. “...mother of Gnorc.” ------- In a Galaxy, far, far away... “..... is getting kinda creepy now Twilight....” “What are you talking about? It’s only a metaphysical transmogrification spell!” came the lavender pony’s response. “Yeah, but when the entire library starts to glow in the middle of the day, it gets pretty st- Actually, when have things ever been normal around here?” the small dragon asked. “What do you mean by that?” Twilight turned, lowering the book she had been levitating in front of her. “Weeelllll... Ever since we moved to Ponyville, really weird things have been happening. I mean, what about all those monkey things that are always watching us?” Spike asked, motioning towards the wall of the library. “Spike, what are you talking about? Do you need to go see Nurse Redheart again?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. The dragon shuddered, remembering the horrors he had witnessed at the institution these ponies called a ‘Hospital’. “No. Never again,” he replied adamantly. “Good boy. Now... Go bug Rarity or whatever you do when you aren’t here,” she said rather icily, before turning back to her work, which then caused the entire structure to light up once more. “Geez... What crawled up your-” Spike began to mutter, before being cut off by the PMS-ing unicorn. “What was that?!” She turned, eyes ablaze with anger, one hoof raised in the air. “N-No! GottagoseeRaritybye!” He blurted out, before vanishing with such a speed Pinkie Pie herse- (Message from Pinkie Pie: Ignore the Co-Author, he’s on some crazy shi-) Anyway, Spike narrowly managed to evade the storm of books hurled at the space he had previously been, before bolting out the door. “That's what I thought.” Twilight grinned rather smugly, turning back to her book. “Now maybe I can actually get down to-” And she was cut off as a huge shock wave of magic ripped through the building. ----------- “Hhuuuhhh... Oh, brother...” Spyro opened his eyes a crack. He wished he hadn’t. The mother of all hangovers was visiting, and knocking on his head. The morning sunshine blazing through the net curtains was not helping. “Well, good morning, sunshine!” came a cheerful voice. “Ugh... Cynder? Little quieter. Please,” he begged her. “I don’t think so. It’s not like it was my fault you knocked back six Firecraker Specials last night.” “Nine.” Cynder’s eyes flashed playfully. “Nine? I’m impressed. You really do know how to fall from grace, don’t you?” “Whadda you know? You’re just... bad. Bad dragon,” he muttered. She raised a paw to her chest. “Ouch. I’m hurt, Spyro. That was a hell of a comeback.” “Oh shut up. Let me suffer in silence.” He slumped back down and groaned again. “I made you waffles.” Silence. “With maple syrup and bacon?” Still nothing. “Also, a nice gin and tonic to go with it.” Spyro remained unresponsive. “It’s a triple measure.” She counted to three, before feeling his presence at her side, a roiling mist of ethanol pouring off of him. “OK then. Let’s do this.” She smiled sadly and collected the meal for him. She watched as he completely ignored the waffles, instead picking up only the glass. She saw the hero who had vanquished Gnasty Gnorc dreamily smile as he inspected the contents. The brave dragon who stood up to Ripto and his minions in a foreign land glugged the G&T down in one almighty gulp. Cynder had to turn away as the Sorceress’ ultimate foe began sucking on the lemon wedge to get the last few sweet drops of alcohol. Reluctantly, she pulled open a drawer. She’d hoped this day would never come, but given the circumstances... “Hey’m, Cynder?” He was already looking tipsy. “Y’don’t mind if I...?” A small bottle of brandy was clutched in his claws. “No, it’s fine. Help yourself,” she said distantly. As he was distracted, she pulled open the drawer and retrieved the item inside. It was a lump of rose quartz, roughly carved into the shape of a balloon. The... creature who had given it to her had urged her only to use it ‘in the most super-duper, totally-end-of-the-world, no-point-of-return mega emergency’. She winced as she felt the heat from Spyro’s belch, his flame breath having ignited the brandy. She clutched the stone to her chest. If the hero of this land was drunk out of his mind, unable to protect them from the next villain who showed up... well, if this wasn’t the end of days, it felt pretty damn close. “I know we said we should never meet again. That the worlds couldn’t take it. But I don’t think I can handle this on my own anymore. He can’t. We’re stuck, we’re trapped and we need help before events overtake us. Please,” she whispered, tears flowing down her snout. For a few dreadful, drawn-out moments, she strained to listen, the only sound being Spyro gradually and noisily clearing out her drink cabinet. As she was about to give up, and cast the stone away, it began to glow slightly. Cynder filtered out the noise of her lout of a friend downing a bottle of peach schnapps and held it to her ear. “Okie dokie lokie!” came a cheerful, slightly tinny voice. “One grrrreat big, fourth wall shattering spell coming right up! Twilight’s casting one now! I’ll just go and startle her and we’ll be on. Our. Way!” Cynder put the stone back down, gazing at it in her claws. “Thanks, Pinkie,” she murmured. She felt the slight tingle of magic, and so did Spyro. The bottle of bourbon clattered to the floor. “Uh oh, Cynder, wassat, I think t’schpiders’re c’min’ back,” he slurred in a worried tone. “No, Spyro. It’s help,” Cynder murmured, her face decorated with the first genuine smile it had worn for months. ------- And so, with a flash, Twilight jerked around, eying the room for the pink pony she was certain had disrupted her research. “Pinkie, I know you’re in here! What have I told you about interrupt-” She stopped mid-sentence as she turned back to her work, to only find two dragons now sitting in front of her, one throwing up on her research while the other was giving her a weak smile. “U-Um... Hello, is Pinkie Pie around?” the smiling dragon asked tentatively, looking around the now-partially-destroyed library. Twilight could feel one of her eyes twitch slightly, making the female, or at least she thought, dragon’s smile turn into a slight frown. “Riiiight here!” A shout from somewhere behind Twilight rang out. She slowly turned her her head to see Pinkie stroll up to her and sit. Twilight the looked back at the two dragons. Thankfully, the one that had been vomiting had stopped, and was now teetering towards her kitchen as the other simply watched him go, a sad look on her face. “It’s good to see you again, Pinkie. I... I had to use the stone becau-” She was cut off as a loud belch emanated from the kitchen. “That. Spyro’s been drinking non-stop for months now. I’m afraid he’s going to hurt himself...” Pinkie gasped. “So you wanted me to have an intervention party?! Yay! We haven’t had one of those since we helped Lyra with her monkey problem!” “Pinkie. What exactly...” Twilight motioned towards the dragon in front of her, and then towards the sounds coming from her kitchen. “...Is going on here?” “Oh! Well, Twilight, this is Cynder! And the drunkard in your kitchen is Spyro! They’re good friends of mine!” Pinkie exclaimed, bouncing to her hooves. “So... Cynder.” Twilight motioned towards her. “Wants you.” Then to Pinkie. “To throw an intervention party for Spyro?” She finished by waving a hoof at the kitchen, right as a bottle of Jack flew through the air and shattered in front of her. “Yes,” both the pony and the only sober dragon in the area replied, however there was a weak groan from inside the kitchen. “Well. If you need me, I’ll be upstairs,” Twilight replied, her calmness rather unsettling to Cynder and Pinkie. As soon as she shut the door to her room, there was a loud shriek, the sound of glass shattering and a thud, one after the other. “Should we go see if she’s alright?” the dragoness asked, turning to her pink companion. “Nah, she does that a lot when I come to visit.” Pinkie waved a hoof dismissively as she began to trot towards the unicorn’s kitchen. “So let’s see how bad it is...” ------- “N-not again...” What’d happened? One moment he was just waking up from one hard night, and now... Spyro looked groggily around at the kitchen. It had changed shape since he’d last been in here; had Cynder got the decorators in or something? He slumped down to the floor, trying to make sense of the situation. He had to do something. He was wired up wrong. All dragons had natural urges to hoard things; there was no shame in that. But while most settled for gems or other precious artifacts, he’d somehow managed to retain a penchant for alcohol. He suppressed a shudder at the memory of knocking back half the bottles in Cynder’s cabinet without a second thought; the sudden spike of shame cleared his head somewhat. And what was that thing Cynder had? Something glowing... and there was that strange sensation... “...want me to throw an intervention party?” he heard a cheerful voice say. Oh no... She must have knocked him out somehow. Help. That’s what Cynder had said. He’d been put in here, and now when he walked out, there would be a big crowd of his old friends out there, all sympathetic-looking, all wanting to help. There’d be a banner, and maybe cake, and a whole heap of embarrassment. “No way. You’re not fooling me that easily, Cynder,” he muttered. He pulled open a few cupboards until he found a mug, cheerily emblazoned with ‘My No. 1 Student!’. Spyro frowned at it. Since when was Cynder a teacher’s pet? Maybe it was from that control freak Dark Lord she’d gone on about... He filled it with water from the sink, and gulped it down, sighing as it refreshed his raw throat. Setting the mug down, he opened the window and climbed out. A niggling little thought at the back of his mind nudged at him, trying to remind him that Cynder didn’t actually live in a tree. He paid it no heed; currently he was more focused on getting out of there undetected. Looking down, he saw that dropping straight out of the window wasn’t an option. There was a road below, and figures... strange, colourful figures. Dragons? Maybe... Instead, he dug his claws into the bark of the tree, carefully shimmying his way around its circumference. “Easy, easy now...” His head spun at the effort of holding up his body weight. He noticed another window nearby. He’d just go in there for a bit, rest, and maybe hide... Spyro pushed the window open and set himself down inside. He looked around; apparently he’d found his way into a bedroom. Not the usual guest room he occasionally crashed in, but surely Cynder had a nicer room than this! It was just a ledge with a bed on it! He froze at the sound of someone coming upstairs. “No, no, no. You’re not dragging me to that party!” he exclaimed. “Not if you’re a cheetah, or a fawn, or a dragonfly, or a...” his brow scrunched up as he saw who it was. “...unicorn?” He breathed. Spyro heard a scream and saw a red flash. He flew backwards, pushed by some unseen force. His head smacked against the window, shattering the glass, and for the second time that day, he slipped into the welcoming embrace of unconsciousness. ------- “Well that’s strange... I thought he had walked in here,” Pinkie said as she walked into the kitchen, which was now much messier than Twilight would have ever allowed. “Are you sure we shou-” Cynder began, but was cut short by a lavender pony crashing into her. “Pinkie! Come quick! There’s something big and weird in my room!” Twilight shouted, before running back to the base of the stairs. “C’mon!” “Alright! Let’s go Cynder!” Pinkie shouted, racing towards the stairs, and then up towards Twilight’s bedroom. Cynder grumbled something unintelligible and got back to her feet and was shepherded up the stairs by the unicorn. The two heard a loud gasp, and rushed the rest of the way up the stairs and into Twilight’s room, only to find Pinkie cradling Spyro’s head near the window. “Spyro!” Cynder launched herself to her unconscious friend. “Twilight! How could you!” Pinkie shouted at the unicorn. “W-How was I supposed to know?!” she replied, trotting over. After a few moments of silence, Pinkie Pie spoke up. “Twilight.... Is he dead?” “What!? Of course not, he’s only unconscious, I didn’t push him that hard...” she answered. “We should put him on the bed.” “Alright, I’ll-” Before Cynder could finish her sentence, the unicorn had levitated him to the bed. “That works too.” She shrugged. “So... Maybe I should go plan that party?” Pinkie asked, trotting to the doorway of the bedroom, a worried look on her face. “Yeah,” Cynder mumbled, and looked back at Spyro, who was currently making a gurgling noise as he laid there unconscious. -------------- It was... dark. And somehow his head hurt even more than before. That really, really shouldn’t have been possible. Spyro looked up to see Cynder sat at the end of the bed, facing away from him. He let his head fall back to the pillow, rubbing the sore spot from his impact with the window. “Oh... you’re awake. You had us worried for a while,” she said softly. “What? You and the little party you had going?” he snapped. “Ah. You heard about that, then?” Cynder’s face fell. “Intervention party? That... weird stone you had? Yeah. I got it figured out, Cynder. Who’ve you got out there? Hunter? Elora? Sparx, even? I don’t want to hear it!” “Well, not quite. I think there’s been a bit of confusion,” she began. Spyro snorted. “You mean before or after a unicorn showed up? Or maybe the part where I got launched into a window? Or when it turns out you’ve moved me into a treehouse?!” His voice raised in volume with each question. Cynder flapped a paw at him to calm him. “Spyro, please! I just wanted to get you-” “Some help. I know,” he said bitterly. “You don’t think I can see that I’ve got a problem?” He grunted and flung himself back down onto the mattress. “What kind of dragon hordes booze, anyway? Perhaps I don’t even deserve this.” “Just listen to yourself!” Cynder laughed. “Stop wallowing in self-pity and listen.” He shifted slightly under the covers. “Look, I may have resorted to some... unorthodox methods, but what did you expect me to do while you were unloading my drinks cabinet?” “Throw some cold water over me? I dunno,” he groaned, refusing to look at her. “Oh, trust me, I’ve tried that before. It’s not that effective,” she sighed. “Have you ever even asked yourself why I’m here? You know I don’t belong here, and yet you seem to simply run with it anyway. In between your binges.” “Well, I guess... I can’t really say. Everything’s felt off ever since I came back from the Forgotten Realms. What difference is one out-of-place dragon? Or for that matter, a freaking purple unicorn?” “Yeah, about that...” Cynder tapped her claws together nervously. How was she going to explain this? “I may have sorta had us transported to a -” She never finished her sentence, as a pink head suddenly appeared out of the bedside tables drawer with a cheerful “HIYA!”, and Spyro reacted in the one way any startled dragon will do; breathe fire. ------- Pinkie continued to smile, even though her mane was now, well, on fire. She seemed not to mind, and simply carried on with introductions. “Hey there! I’m Pinkie Pie! Cynder’s told me a lot about you!” the pink earth pony exclaimed, most of her cotton candy-esque mane now gone. Both dragons were still speechless at her sudden appearance, shocked at how she could fit in the dra(Hey, is that a Fat joke!?)wer. “Um... Pinkie. Your mane is...” Cynder recovered, motioning towards the pink pony’s head. Pinkie glanced upwards, to where her darker pink curls would normally be. “Oh! Don’t worry about it! This usually happens once a week. Watch this!” She exclaimed, before shoving her hoof into her mouth. She then took a deep breath in to her nose, and then attempted to do something similar to popping her ears. Instead, there was a loud pop! that sounded almost exactly like bubblegum, and her mane was back! “Cynder. We’re not in the Dragon Realms anymore, are we?” Spyro asked, staring at the abomination in front of him. “No, no we’re not,” she replied, her eyes locked on the same thing his were. “Then where are we?” he asked, almost as if he was afraid of what her answer would be. “You’re in Equestria!” Pinkie shouted giddily as she hopped out of the drawer. Spyro glanced at Cynder, who nodded in agreement. “And we’re... In Equestria.... To get me... Help?” Spyro asked slowly, and he received another nod from Cynder. “C’mon Pinkie. I think Spyro needs a little time to think this all through.” Cynder rose to her paws and headed to the door, Pinkie in tow. “Just yell if you need something Spyro. Other than alcohol.” She cut him off before he could even say ‘Bourbon’. And the door shut, and he was alone. He looked to the nearby window, which he had recently been slung at. “I could always run away....” he said to himself, contemplating the idea...