//------------------------------// // Chapter 1: What Became of the Beast // Story: Green Fire and Golden Flames // by Freelancer //------------------------------// Chapter 1: What Became of the Beast Want. It was that urge, that single ever-growing urge that pushed Spike forward through Ponyville, willing his eyes and claws to search for new treasures. The dragon tore off roofs and leveled buildings in his hunt. Screams and cries rose from the streets around the dragon, drowning out the hoofbeats of their terrified owners as they scattered before him. Despite their cries and pleas for him to stop, it appeared that either Spike just didn’t care about any of them, or if he had, his primeval instincts had overridden those feelings of concern. Only one thought appeared to be rebounding through his head, and that was to take anything not bolted to the ground. That was the only thing that mattered to the dragon. He could, however, tell that more voices were being added to the chorus with every step he took or possession he seized, and that was now becoming annoying. Their piercing notes were ringing in his ears enough as it was, and that was in turn distracting him from the many prizes that were yet unseized. Want. He snarled and forced himself to ignore their fearful cries. Instead, upon seeing the potential treasure, he reached down and plucked an upturned flower cart from the road that had caught his wandering eye, sending the previous owner screaming as she galloped down a nearby alleyway in terror. It wasn’t much, but it was still another possession to add to his ever- growing hoard. His monstrous jaws broke into something of a sadistic smile. After all of his searching for an answer, was this perhaps what it meant to be a dragon? To have the strength and power to take whatever you wished? To be able to raze anything and everything that dared to stand in your way? To be so mighty that nothing and no one dared to challenge your strength? If it was, then Spike certainly liked it. With a satisfied growl, he secured his new found property in his water tank, the upturned metal container now filled to the brim with the many possessions he’d so far collected… and yet despite how full it was, it still looked and felt nigh empty to him. He wanted—no, he needed more. The hunger quickly returned stronger than ever, with Spike’s draconic instincts once again fuelling the unquenchable urge to hoard. Want. …………………………………………………………………………………………………. “Have ya tried just talkin’ to Spike about it?” Applejack asked, a hoof rubbing against her chin. “Ya know, just gettin’ him to understand that the whole mess wasn’t his fault. It ain’t like he knew that his instincts were just gonna kick in like they did.” The unicorn sitting opposite her huffed and nodded her head half-heartedly, prompting Applejack to frown. The library had never been Applejack’s favourite place in Ponyville to visit. It wasn’t that she held anything against it—she enjoyed a good book as much as the next pony—it was just that the library was their meeting place when the town was about to be hit by some disaster. Still, when Spike hadn’t earlier shown up at her family’s stall to pick up the week’s supply of apples, Applejack had taken it upon herself to pay her friends’ home a visit. Upon walking through door, she’d found the place in perhaps the best condition she’d ever seen, and that was saying something; every piece of timber was polished to the point of being spotless, every book dusted and neatly put away, and every window looking like it’d only just been put in. She’d asked Twilight just how Spike had gotten the place so clean, but rather than a prideful answer at her assistant’s skill, she’d gotten a defeated huff in reply, the last possible reaction she’d expected from her friend. “I’ve tried talking to Spike about it, AJ, trust me. I’ve told him it wasn’t his fault and that nopony could’ve known that it would happen, least of all him. But it’s like he just doesn’t want to hear it,” Twilight answered dejectedly, putting her cup down and staring at the table. “I don’t know what to do.” “Don’t take it personally, for starters. Ya can’t always force him to listen to ya. Ma brother’s the same. Sometimes it’s like trying to argue with a darn wall.” That drew a small smile from Twilight, though it wasn’t a smile that reached her eyes. The farm pony sighed before continuing. “Look, Twilight, worrying yourself sick about this ain’t gonna make this better for anypony, least of all you or Spike.” “I know. I just… I just want to help Spike get through this, but I just don’t know what I can do to help.” Applejack’s ears flattened back in sympathy, and she put a reassuring hoof over Twilight’s own. In a way, Twilight was trying to deal with a situation not unlike the ones she often had to. Those usually concerned her younger sister, her endless drive to find her talent and earn her cutie mark, and the gloomy disappointment that always seemed to follow each of her failed attempts. “Maybe ya should just give him some space and time, let ‘im accept things and move on at his own rate. Spike’s got a darn tough hide on him, no pun intended, so he’ll probably bounce back in his own time.” Twilight snorted. “He’ll just use that as another reason to continue not going outside,” she said, before wincing at Applejack’s surprised expression. “Ugh, sorry. I’m just frustrated at this whole situation and worried about him.” Applejack just smirked, before shaking her head. “Ah can see that, but you’re like family to each other, so don’t go beatin’ yourself up ‘bout caring,” she said, removing her hoof. “Look, how ‘bout the two of ya sit down together, and ya tell him how this is startin’ to get under your coat. Ah think he’ll come round if you’re honest with Spike, or at very least open up ‘bout what’s hurtin’ him.” “But I’ve tried that already.” Applejack’s hoof poked Twilight in the chest. “But have ya told him how you feel? Twi, whether ya like it or not, this is gettin’ to ya like somethin’ fierce, and you’re the pony he cares about the most.” Twilight’s eyebrow arched. “So I should try and… use that against him?” “Not really the way ah’d put it, more like use it drawn him out. Share the burden, kinda. If you tell ‘im how all of this is making you feel, then maybe, just maybe he'll return the favour.” Twilight chewed her lip for a moment before nodding. “Hmm, perhaps that’ll work. Thanks Applejack.” “Hey, Spike’s a friend ah mine too, remember, and ah hate seein’ him in the dumps as much as you do. We all do.” Still smiling at her small victory, Applejack picked up her hat as she got to her hooves before replacing it on her crown. “And listen, if things do get really prickly, maybe ya can convince Spike to spend a few days out at the Acres. He could get some fresh air away from everypony. It’d be good for him.” Twilight blinked and smiled. “I never thought of that. No promises, but I’ll try.” “Door’s always open,” Applejack said, inclining her head. “Anyhow, ah better get back to the market. Mac’s good with countin’ the bits and all, but when it comes to attracting customers from the crowd, well, he’s a bit quiet.” The two shared a laugh as they exchanged goodbyes, and Applejack showed herself out. Allowing a sigh to escape her muzzle, Twilight leant back in her chair and took another drink of her tea, her eyes watching the world beyond her window go by as she sat and thought. It just didn’t feel real to her, or at very least believable. Only two weeks had passed and everypony outside seemed as happy and cheerful as they’d ever been, like Spike’s greedy rampage had either not affected them in the slightest or never even happened at all. She knew full well that it had; the memories of that day were all too real, as was were the sounds of the construction crews that Princess Celestia had sent to help rebuild. But it was like everypony had just gone and moved on from it all, and that really didn’t make any sense to her. Most of them had been running in terror as Spike marched through town and hoarded their belongings, and now they were just walking around like nothing had happened. And Spike was the one dealing with an emotional fallout. “Is Applejack gone?” came a voice, interrupting Twilight’s thoughts. Allowing herself another huff of annoyance, Twilight turned and faced her assistant, finding the dragon was standing in doorway and playing with his claws. “Yes, she had to get back to her stall at the market,” Twilight answered as she got up and took her empty cup to the sink, slightly annoyed at his attitude. “Why didn’t you come down and say hello?” Spike looked at the floor. “I figured she’d still be mad at me.” “Spike, Applejack is your friend. She cares about you,” the mare sighed. “And remember, she can relate to what you’re going through. It was Applejack who caused those rabbits to stampede through Ponyville and destroy everypony’s garden.” That drew a scoff from the dragon. “There’s a difference between damaging a few gardens and flattening half a town, Twilight.” “True, but she’s still your friend, so you should at least come and say hi when she comes over.” “I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” folding his arms as he walked into the kitchen, Spike made a line straight for the fridge. “Ugh, looks like we’re out of milk and eggs,” he grumbled, shutting it again. “Well, I need to study today,” Twilight said flatly, returning to the main room as she sought the necessary books. “So I’ll give you the bits if you go get some, and maybe some extra for ice cream.” “Na, I think we can last until the weekend,” was the reply from the kitchen. Twilight groaned and facehoofed. This just wasn’t working anymore. “Time to see if AJ was right,” she thought. “Spike, come in here. You and I need to talk.” She heard the grumble that her assistant let out, but said nothing of it as Spike emerged into the main room, looking mildly agitated. Truthfully, she found it very hard to believe that the dragon before her had, only two weeks prior, just about levelled a quarter of Ponyville as he stole everypony’s belongings and tried to make a hoard of them. Worst of all, if not for the fact that Rarity had been wearing his gem around her neck, he probably would’ve. She shook her head free of the thoughts, instead summoning a set of cushions for the two of them, and then making herself comfortable on one of them. One way or another Spike had done such a thing, but it wasn’t something she could let him continue to dwell on like this. Otherwise it might well drive them both insane. “Spike, we need to talk about you…” “There’s nothing to talk about.” Spike grumbled, folding his arms as he sat down beside her. Twilight rolled her eyes. This wasn’t going to be easy. “Really? Then explain to me why you spend most of your time in here rather than going out and socialising?” “Sound like anypony familiar?” “Spike! This is serious,” Twilight snapped as her composure dropped, gesturing to the nigh spotless room around them to emphasize her point. “You’ve been holing yourself up in the library just about all day, every day for the last two weeks. Do you really think that’s healthy?” “Well… no.” “Spike, the girls and I are worried about you, and I don’t just mean myself and AJ either. We all know what this is about, and we all know you’re not proud of what you did when… it happened… but you can’t let your actions keep controlling you like this.” She flinched when Spike let out a momentary low growl, though whether it was because she’d hit a tender spot, or that Spike was just annoyed, she couldn’t really tell. Probably both. “Look, Twilight, I really don’t…” “Spike, please, for both our sakes, stop trying to avoid this,” she wrapped a hoof around him. “At very least tell me how you feel, that way I understand why you’re acting like this.” She scooted a little closer and brought him close, pulling the dragon against her barrel and nuzzling him along the cheek, just as she’d done when they’d been younger back in Canterlot. He fought the action at first, but after a few struggles eventually huffed and seemed to give into his emotions, ceasing his resistance and melting into the warmth and comfort of her coat. “Come on Spike, talk to me. You know I can’t stand seeing you like this.” After a long moment of silence, and no small amount of hoping on Twilight’s part, the dragon swallowed. “It’s just… that’s just it, Twi,” he said at last, clenched jaws revealing rows of sharp teeth. “I keep trying to get over what I did, but it’s like I can’t. There’s just so many reminders everywhere I look.” “Like what, Spike?” Spike exhaled, the spines along his back drooping. “Well, how about how almost everypony who comes through our door glares at me like I’m some sort of monster.” Twilight blanched. “Spike! Don’t you ever say that about yourself! You are my number one assistant and my best friend.” “I know, and that’s great and all, Twi, but you’re just one pony,” he grumbled. “Nopony else will ever look at me the same way after what I did. Not Applejack, or Rarity, or Rainbow Dash. Probably not even Pinkie Pie.” “Spike, how can you say that?” “How can you be so sure that it’s not true?” he replied sharply, silencing the unicorn. Spike shuddered in her hooves all of a sudden, and looking down she realized he was now staring at his claws, both of which were clenched. “But you know what my real problem is? I-I can’t even stand to look at myself after what I did.” She offered him a reassuring nuzzle. “Spike?” “I enjoyed it, Twi,” he choked out, his voice a bare whisper as he turned and faced her, the dragon now looking on the verge of tears. “That’s what I really can’t get over. I hate what I did now, but when I was huge and taking everypony’s things, I was—I was enjoying it. I was enjoying taking things, destroying Ponyville, and terrifying the ponies I call my friends.” Twilight sighed and nuzzled him again, a hoof stroking his spines. “I understand, and I know it’s hard, but you still need to try and let that go of those feelings. Our friends still care about you, and you’re not a giant rampaging dragon anymore.” “Tch, easier said than done…” he wiped his eyes. “You know, I’ve actually been thinking, maybe… maybe it’d be best if I just left, you know? I don’t think a lot of ponies still want me around.” Twilight blinked. This was worse than she thought. Spike wasn’t just feeling guilty for what he’d done anymore, or the fact that he’d enjoyed it, Spike had now out rightly started questioning his place in Ponyville. Every passing day had no doubt served to build up the layers of insecurity, and he now honestly believed that he wasn’t wanted. The very thought of such a thing made Twilight’s stomach churn. After a few long moments of silence between them, he looked up at her again. “Twi, what do you think I should I do?” “How do you mean, Spike?” He gestured to himself with his claws. “Well, I can’t exactly stop being a dragon, and I’m only going to get bigger, b-but I don’t want to leave Ponyville and my friends,” he smiled weakly. “And I don’t want to leave you.” She smiled and held him close, silently trying to keep her own emotions in check. “I can’t honestly tell what the future holds, Spike, or how we’re going to deal with it… but what I can tell you is that you do belong in Ponyville. And I don’t ever, ever want you thinking otherwise.” “Heh, not so sure about that, Twi. I’m the only dragon in a town of ponies.” “Spike, just about everypony in Ponyville is your friend.” Twilight replied with a very slight roll of her eyes. She had an idea. “And yes, we’re all certain you’re a dragon, but you’re not a bad dragon, and everypony in Ponyville knows that. What you need to do is remind both them and yourself of it.” “Huh?” “Actually go out and talk to them, Spike. Spend some time around town, make them see that you’re not a monster who’s after their possessions,” Twilight winced as Spike glared at her. “Ugh, sorry… what I mean to say is, make them see that you’re still you. Spike, the dragon who goes out of his way to be helpful, the dragon who’s a polite and generous member of the Ponyville community. The Spike they all know and care about.” A faint blush spread across Spike’s cheeks, perhaps the first Twilight had seen in near two weeks. “That does… kinda make sense actually.” “I am an egghead after all, aren’t I?” Twilight snickered happily. “Just promise me that you’ll try, Spike. Please, can you at least promise me that?” “I… I think I can do that.” Twilight giggled. “Thank yo—” she started, only to be cut off by a sudden knock at the door, of all things. ………………………………………………………………………………………………….. “You know, when you actually get up close and personal, this town’s kinda different than I thought it would be,” Soarin said, the stallion running his gaze over the various cottages, market stalls, and the occasional mare as they passed them by. “Nice even.” Spitfire didn’t bother offering him a reply. If it were any other day, in any other town, she would’ve been more than happy to discuss the first thing that caught her attention… but this was Ponyville. Sure, the town around her came across as being pleasant enough, but her brain was neglecting all positives due to one major negative. Her overriding and unrelenting fear of the entire place. Her mind felt like it was being repeatedly pounded again and again with a sledgehammer bearing the statement ‘You shouldn’t be anywhere near here!’, and only a lifetime of dealing with pre-performance nerves was allowing her to keep it mostly in check. Everything she saw was reminding her of one thing alone. The image of a massive, purple and green dragon smashing down anything that got in its way. “Heeellloooo? Equestria to Spitfi—Mmph!” her hoof was shoved firmly in Soarin’s muzzle. “What did I say about names?” Soarin rolled his eyes as he spat it out. “Not to say them out loud if we’re in public,” the stallion answered as they walked on, his ears flicking back. “Ugh, Spits, what’s got your tail in such a tight knot? I understand that you’re a bit wound up about being here and all…” “Well, for starters, the fact that this is by far the worst idea that you’ve ever come up with,” Spitfire hissed. “If you’ve somehow failed to notice yet, we’re basically walking around bare furred here! How do you know we won’t get recognized?” To emphasize her point, Spitfire motion to her golden flank and fiery cutie mark, both presently out for all the world to see. “Hmm, I dunno, maybe since we’ve been here for, what, an hour now? And neither of us are getting mugged for our autographs yet?” Soarin said, his sarcasm earning him a snort and firm shove in the side. “Ow! Okay, okay, just calm down.” “Calm down?! How the feathering hay do you expect me to be calm at a time like this? What if somepony actually realizes it’s me, you featherhead?” “Eh, so what if they do?” Spitfire gave him a glare. “Remember back in my office? You know, when I said I don’t want anypony knowing about this? Ringing any bells? If this gets out the press are going to have a field day with my flank.” “Spits, just… ugh, look, what are the realistic chances of somepony recognizing you?” “Hello! Both of our cutie marks are showing!” It was common knowledge amongst the Wonderbolts that she didn’t get cranky very often, but when she did get cranky, even Spitfire admitted she got really cranky… as in, ‘don’t go poking that damn grizzly bear with a stick!’ kind of cranky. Soarin had just officially gone and poked that bear. The stallion just groaned, and rolled his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time in the last ten minutes. “Yeah Spits, because I’m sure plenty of ponies around here have seen you without your uniform on.” “Excuse me?!” Soarin froze as his brain caught up. “I-I didn’t mean it like that.” “Unless you want to be on cleaning duty for an entire month, you better not have.” Spitfire snorted at him. “Is this what I get for just trying to help? Ugh, Spits, and you wonder why you’re always single.” “Do you really wanna go there?” the stallion remained silent. “That’s what I thought.” Soarin grumbled to himself, but otherwise said nothing. “Sorry.” “Huh?” “Ugh, do I have to repeat everything I say around you?” Spitfire sighed, the small edge of a smirk now playing across her muzzle. “I said I’m sorry for snapping at you like that. I… I know I shouldn’t be taking my frustration out on you, Soar, that was wrong of me… but it’s just us being here feels… wrong… I think is the best way I can put it, and it’s making me really edgy.” Despite still being a little agitated at his captain’s attitude, Soarin chuckled. When Spitfire said she was sorry, you could always tell that she meant it. “Apology accepted, and sorry about what I said,” he grinned with a shake of his head. “Besides, that’s how this whole thing is supposed to make you feel; the only way you’ll get over this issue of yours is to expose yourself to the problem.” “But doesn’t that mean that there needs to be, like, a rampaging dragon running around or something?” Two pegasus ponies laughed, much to the confusion of everypony else around them. Most of whom proceeded to mutter and stare at the pegasi oddly, the words ‘air heads’ and ‘heads in the clouds’ being thrown around. Neither Wonderbolt cared in the slightest. “Hehe, wow, I needed that,” Spitfire said happily. “That’s because you’ve been acting down in the dumps all day, Spits,” Soarin chuckled, nuzzling his captain and friend. “You need to lighten up a bit now and then, heh, otherwise you’ll probably end up making me all mopey.” The mare looked at her hooves. “Yeah… I know I do, but it’s just that I’m under the pump enough as it is right now, so you have to understand that this is the worst possible time for me to be trying to deal with my… eh, issues.” “Let me guess, all that damn paperwork?” the stallion grinned. If Fleetfoot didn’t live up to her promise, the cleaners certainly weren’t going to be happy with any of them. “Ugh, well, not exactly. Let’s just say that the brass have been breathing down my neck pretty heavily for the last two weeks.” “What about?" “More than anything, the fact that Blaze and the others are still going through counselling,” Spitfire snorted, Soarin wincing at the amount of venom in her words. “A few members of command are trying to pin their conditions on me, seeing as I was the one who gave the lieutenant her orders in the first place.” Soarin’s muzzle twitched in both mild surprise, and more than a little concern. “You’re kidding me, right?” “Dead set,” Spitfire huffed. “And the problem is that they’re technically right…” “Spits, you might have given Blaze the order, but she was the one who took it way too far and put her squad in jeopardy, you got that? What happened was her fault, not yours, so the next time one of brass pulls that kind of horseapples, I want you to tell ‘em exactly where and how far they can shove it.” “You do know that I’d probably get demoted for saying something like that?” “Meh, would be worth it just to see the looks on their faces.” It was only small, but the edge of a smile still returned to Spitfire’s muzzle at the reassuring words, allowing Soarin a small mental sigh of relief. “Thanks, Soar. Heh, you know, it’s nice knowing you’ve always got my back.” Their friendship had always been regarded as something of a strange one by their teammates, and upon thinking about it as he laughed, Soarin felt that was putting it rather simply. Admittedly, the close nature of their friendship had raised plenty of eyebrows and spawned more than a few rumours over the years, amongst both the brass and the press one might add, but they were just that, pointless and baseless rumours born of gossipers and front-page-article wannabes. There had never been anything romantic between the two of them, and that was how Soarin personally liked it and wanted it stay. “Not to mention I get shouted at enough as it is,” he grinned to himself. “Hey, Soar,” came Spitfire’s voice, her input derailing his thoughts. “How long do I have to go through this whole ‘exposure’ thing anyway?” Soarin huffed and shrugged. “Eh, that really depends on you,” was his reply, the stallion glancing back at her. “If you’re already feeling that you—ow!” CRACK! “Pfft! You featherhead.” “Ugh, you got my attention on purpose, didn’t you?” Soarin grumbled under his breath, Spitfire all the while snickering behind a hoof. Spitfire’s eyes quickly darted from side to side. “Hmmm… maybe,” she teased, rubbing his crown. “Consider it payback for your swipe at my love life.” Soarin continued to groan and rub his sore forehead as he looked up, half expecting to find either an utterly dazed pony slouched over on the road in front of him, or perhaps even a horribly misplaced and possibly dented lamppost. What he came face to face with, however, was the furthest from either of these two things. If the exterior of what looked like bark was anything to go by, or perhaps the plentiful amount of bright green leaves growing around the top, he was standing before a living oak tree… that was also a building. The sign standing proudly out the front also bore the symbol of an open book, giving the indication that the building was, rather ironically, a library. It was also what he’d walked into, and subsequently cracked, a thin line running through the aged timber to show as such. “Just how the hay did I manage to walk into this?” “Well, you know, Fleetfoot might actually be right about your clumsiness.” Spitfire smirked, flicking her tail across his muzzle as she strolled past. “Hmm, I wonder how many laughs she’d get out of this one?” Soarin turned and glared at her. “You say a thing to Fleet about this, and I will get the brass to demote you.” “Tch, take it easy, I’m only playing,” Soarin snorted at her smug expression. “Anyway,” Spitfire said, admiring the odd structure. “Come on you, we’d better go apologize before somepony calls the royal guard on us.” Soarin snorted and rubbed his aching head. “More like calls the guard on me,” he muttered, much to his fiery companion’s mirth. Spitfire’s amusement, however, didn’t get to last very long. Whether what happened next was an act of fate, destiny, or just coincidence giving probability the double-back-hoof-to-the-face treatment, even Soarin couldn’t really decide. One moment Spitfire’s hoof was reaching up to knock on the wooden door, the next his ears were perking up at the sound of voices resonating from inside. If he was right, and his hearing hadn’t suffered from a career’s worth of sonic booms, Soarin guessed that one was male and the other was female, with the latter sounding to be the slightly older of the two. Finally, the door quickly creaked open in response to his and his captain’s request for an entrance, revealing to the stallion a sight that made even his high-altitude adapted blood go cold. A dragon with purple scales and green spines. …………………………………………………………………………………………………….