//------------------------------// // 02: A Name Rightly Earned // Story: The Old Dragonslayer // by HeWhoFollows //------------------------------// Chapter 2 – A Name Rightly Earned Soaring through the sky, a hum of contentment rumbled in his throat. The mighty dragon had managed to catch a rather succulent morsel for his daily meal, and with the day so fine and the skies so calm and clear, the flight back to his cavern abode was nothing short of lazy. As he grew close to his little notch in the mountains, though, he began to feel uneasy. That sixth sense, that which warned a former clan dragon of a coming fight, was warning him, urging him to turn around and find another hole. With a snort, the beast banished his unease. What creature would be so foolish as to challenge a mighty, fully-grown dragon? What creature would be so mighty as to challenge such a dragon? Ornstein stood on a boulder in shadow, his new armor camouflaged in the darkness. While some may have frozen in fear or even fled in terror, all the Dragonslayer did was watch with contempt. The dragon was massive, but not muscular. Its lazy motions mocked him, taunted his absence. When the beast landed, its belly jiggled insultingly, and Ornstein's grip on his spear tightened, longing to puncture that skin and flesh, so simply vulnerable. He held himself in check, however; the one way to properly slay a dragon was within its own home. Perhaps it did not live with others...no matter. There were more dragons, and there would still be dragon clans. The Dragonslayer's return would be known, and the dragons would flee in fear. He banished all distractions from his mind, then, and dropped to the small off-shooting ledge to the main entrance of the cave. He then made his way to the entrance itself, making no attempt to be stealthy, wanting to fight this dragon on even terms, as he had in his days of glory. In his servitude of...of who? When did he serve anyone? Ornstein halted, staggering slightly at the coming of these thoughts. He paused and steeled himself against them and entered the dragon's abode. Questions later, he told himself. Dragon slaying now. The dragon glared at the creature that would dare enter his home. And a strange creature it seemed, walking on two legs like a minotaur and yet lacking the horns or physique of one! The dragon stood and let out a roar to express its outrage, expecting the tiny thing to turn tail and run, starting the chase of predator and prey. Ornstein was not impressed. The dragon's roar was a ploy to strike fear into the hearts of the weak and timid. He was neither. He leveled his spear, allowed its power to collect, and thrusted, sending a bolt of lightning right into the astonished beast's chin, snapping its head back. The dragon's maw came down with a roar of rage, a foolish attempt to crush its skilled opponent. Sidestepping, Ornstein stabbed it in one eye, causing it to reel with a shriek of agony. It growled and reoriented itself before belching a tongue of red flame. When the fires died, the drake brought its head low to observe its handiwork, but was again astonished by the creature, for its roasted form was nowhere to be found! A flash of movement caught its eye, and it whipped its head around, but unfortunately, in the wrong direction. Ornstein, understanding the dragon's reflexive action, had moved to its blind side. The small clack of his boots colliding with a wall were the only warning the dragon had before he leapt off the surface and drove his spear into its neck. While the dragon turned its head to look at him in disbelief, he did not see it. Instead, as the dragon's head dropped to the stone, he saw a different scene, reminiscent of this very one. A scene originating from a memory he wasn't sure was his own. A memory of former glory. Twilight paced anxiously, unable to concentrate on anything but the awaited reply from her mentor, Princess Celestia. She had been awoken by the magical pulse that had so disturbed the princesses, though she did not know it, and had immediately sent a letter inquiring about it. As she waited, she fretted over the wording of the letter and how frantic it seemed, especially now that the event was in the past and she wasn't paralyzed by the strength of it. Spike, who was busy doing the chores he had been assigned with for years, sigh and said "Give it a rest, Twilight, you know she'll answer as soon as she can." When Twilight didn't respond, he sighed and walked over to her. "Twilight." The lavender alicorn jumped, as if she had forgotten he was there. When her attention was on him, he said "Don't get worked up over this. I know you're worried, but you won't do anypony any good fretting like you are. Whatever it is that has you worked up, it's not gonna be a problem for the princesses. Who knows, it might not even be a bad thing." Twilight smiled weakly in thanks to his reasonable words and set about working on organizing a new shipment of books that had just arrived. Spike's right, she thought. Maybe this is a natural phenomenon that happens every thousand years or so, and won't affect daily life at all. Maybe the princesses did something unique and wonderful. Who knows? Neither of them could be further from the truth. The Dragonslayer stood on a ledge, eyes scanning the mountains and horizon, seeking a likely spot. Deducing a likely location, he leapt and began racing down the sheer mountainside, his agility and speed granting him impossible control. When the ground drew near, he leapt and stabbed his spear into the ground, vaulting and dispelling his momentum. There he sat to wait and rest. This next battle would be legendary, he was sure, and would return his glory. Or...was the glory even his? Of that, he wasn't sure. Celestia groaned, rubbing her eyes with her hooves as she looked over the next report. They were all the same: word spreading slowly, no sightings, and no rumors. The lack of activity was most certainly wearying but not surprising. Despite his speed, she yet to see the Dragonslayer act with haste. He was skilled and experienced, ready to take on any challenge, and highly capable in any situation due to his ability to remain calm. Or at least, to remain in control of himself. She set the report aside and moved on to the next parchment, where her eyes rested on a familiar script that, in a rare occurrence, she had been dreading. With a sigh, she conjured a quill and parchment and began to write her reply to Twilight. During the time where she was contemplating explaining the magic surge to her pupil, she was distracted by the doors to her study slamming open. Looking towards the cause of disturbance, she sighed again, seeing her sibling in the doorway, her face set in an irritable manner. Luna approached and, in a calm voice, said "The castle is in an uproar, Sister. I..." Pausing, she continued "I have asked for an explanation from all manner of servants and guards, but they were too busy to explain. What is going on?" Celestia took a moment to gather her thoughts, rubbed her eyes with her hooves again, and said "Do you remember the statue of that human knight in the garden, Luna?" The night princess nodded, her expression becoming curious. Celestia continued, "He is a knight that appeared during your exile to the moon. During the days he ran free, he slew many dragons, and a strange affliction began to spread among our subjects. He clearly knew of it, and as it only appeared during his time, it was clearly linked to him." Celestia paused, searching for the right words, and Luna said "And the effects of the disease?" Celestia sighed, remembering several friends that had been consumed by it, and said "The first sign of it is usually gradual amnesia. After that comes a madness that accompanies aggressiveness, and then their body withers away until it has become wasted, nearly little more than a corpse." With a deep breath, she continued "Ornstein – the knight I have mentioned – began to broaden his horizon of targets. He began to slaughter our subjects as well as dragons. Where he had been sought for the slaughter of creatures that had not attacked anypony, he became hunted for that very thing. Eventually he sought me out, and we battled." Her eyes become distant, remembering the horrific wounds his weapon had inflicted, how he had seemed largely unaffected by her attacks, and how it had ended. "He was quick and skilled. I was barely able to retaliate, and whatever I did he simply shook off. In the end I was forced to curse him, petrifying him and securing victory – narrowly." Celestia looked her sister in the eye, paused, and said "The magical pulse you – and Twilight as well – sensed last night occurred on the very day he had appeared. That it has happened again can only mean one thing...he has somehow broken the curse." Luna blinked uncomprehendingly. "Impossible. That curse is designed to last a thousand years. Not even Discord could have broken it." Celestia simply stared at her sister. When her meaning came clear, Luna's eyes widened. "You cannot possibly mean-!" Celestia replied "Yes. In the time that he has been imprisoned, he must have been gaining power. By now he clearly surpasses Discord." The Dragonslayer certainly felt powerful, standing atop a mountain peak and gazing down at his targets. A whole clan of dragons, some preparing to hunt, most preparing for slumber, lay in a valley concealed by early darkness in the twilight. Ornstein sat where he was, watching. He did not need sleep. At the moment, he did not need to rest. All he had to do is wait. He had already picked his target. The patriarch of the clan, clearly the largest and richest, would have the largest effect if slain. After all, dragon leaders are some of the most skilled and strong of their clan, and it is no mean feat for any to defeat them, much less kill them. Ornstein had done it, though, and he would do it again. But not yet. It was not yet time. At the moment it was time to wait. Wait for the dawn. Wait for the sun.