Chapter 29
Abrupt Motherhood
I wasn’t all that sure that I would wake up at all. But that I did, on a cold, hard floor. For a moment, I feared that I had somehow been returned to that lonely Canterlot cell, but the crackle of a fireplace told me otherwise. I sat upright, noticing a thick woolen blanket wrapped around me. A puddle of water had formed around my head from where the ice had thawed from my mane. I swept the drenched blue hair out of the water, and wrung it dry. I pulled the blanket closer, and moved to the rug before the fire. Where was I? Who brought me here?
“Discord?” I hopefully called. There was no answer but my own voice echoing off the tall stone walls. The place almost looked like a castle, but it somehow seemed much too homely for that. Simple red tapestries hung from the wall, and torches offered illumination to the cracked stone bricks. I seemed to be in one of the main branches, where a warm hearth had been erected. An old woven rug lay before it, offering me some cushion as I thawed. Three massively long couches were stationed on each exposed side. They were so long they had to be placed a good distance from the fire, so I remained on the ground. Beyond the middle couch, though, I eyed a long hallway. A thick and heavy looking wooden door locked the snow out. A long window had been cut out on each side. I was reluctant to leave my warm spot by the fire, but finally made myself get up.
I’d started down the puddle-ridden walkway when something shifted behind me. I jumped at the sudden noise. Who- or what- was watching me? “Who’s there?” The form shrank back even further, creating more noise. It was coming from behind one of the couches. There was a side table beside the right one, pressed against the wall. My view was blocked by the bricks making up the fireplace, but I noted the flower vase atop shift as the figure beneath bumped the top of the table. I slowly and quietly crept around. Pressed into the corner beneath the table was a shivering, orange-scaled baby dragon. His eyes were shut tightly, as if that would make him invisible. My heart melted.
“Hey, there.” He jumped, hitting his head on the table. Realizing he couldn’t go up, or out without running into me, he tried to squeeze under the couch. He soon found it impossible, considering how heavy and low seated it was. He just huddled up in a quivering lump instead, hoping I was friendly. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” I bent over to his level, trying to get a clear look. He cast a distrusting glance my way. I gasped. “Blaze?”
“H-How do you know my name?” he sniffed.
“Blaze, it’s me. Remember, from the dragon migration? It’s Acrylic.”
“Mom’s friend?”
“That’s right. Come on out of there. You’re freezing.” He finally crawled out, though I had to lift the side table about an inch to give him more headroom. I drew him closer to me, letting my body heat warm his cold scales. “What are you doing back here when there’s a nice warm fire just on the other side?”
“My brother says you can’t trust ponies.”
“I know what Garble thinks, but most ponies aren’t evil. Especially not after they’ve just been rescued,” I teased, nuzzling my gratitude. “Did you not recognize me, hon?”
“You don’t have wings anymore,” he pointed out. “And your cutie mark is gone.”
“I know,” I sighed, gently lifting him back up onto my back. “Truly evil ponies did this to me.”
“Ponies took your wings?” he tried to hide in my mane, looking back at his own wings.
“They thought I was dangerous. So they tried to make me like them,” I answered, bringing him to the fireplace and wrapping him in the woolen sheets. “But I’m nothing like them. And I never will be.”
“What about the pony who came with you the first time? Where’s he?”
“I wish I knew, Blaze.” I bit my lip, refusing to let the hatchling see me cry. “What about Ignition? Where’s the rest of your family? And what are you doing so far away from the dragon craters?” Blaze huddled closer to me.
“Mom didn’t want to leave us, so she took Garble and I with her. We were going to find a new home where no one would bother us again. But then we got caught in a snowstorm. Mom crashed, but got us here. We couldn’t find Garble. He must’ve got lost in the storm. She told me to stay here while she went out to look for him.”
“You mother is out in that?” I looked out the windows at the snow being dumped from the sky. If I thought I had a hard time out in the snow, a dragon would freeze twice as quickly. If Ignition was still ill, she’d never last!
“I tried to go out to look for her once, but I only found you.” I nuzzled him once more.
“Thank you, Blaze. You saved my life.”
“Garble might not approve, but I knew it was what Mom would do,” he blushed. The doors smashed open behind us, and I whirled to face the intruder.
“GARBLE!” The teenaged dragon was shivering, and almost completely covered in icicles. I jumped up and ran to close the doors behind him, shutting out the cold. His steps were small and stiff, and he was barely conscious. It looked like hypothermia. That was not good news for a dragon. I supported him on one side, and he finally collapsed altogether. Even Blaze tried to help in holding up his other side. Together, we brought him to the wooly bed Blaze had previously occupied.
“Quick, Blaze, I need you to round up every blanket and sheet in this place,” I ordered.
“Okay,” came the worried yet willing answer. He was reluctant to leave his injured brother, but would do whatever it took to save him. Meanwhile, I began scouring the halls for a large bowl or a tub. In what appeared to be a kitchen or mess hall, I finally identified a suitable basin. I sprinted outside, gathered as much snow as it would hold, and carried it inside. Blaze had erected a large mound of every cloth he could find, from low hanging tapestries and washcloths to blankets and rugs.
“Can you melt this?” I offered the bowl, wrapping the shivering dragon in the largest and warmest fabrics.
“I can try.” He dragged it over to the stone floor where nothing flammable could be ignited, and summoned as much ruby red dragon fire as he could manage. After a lot of huffing and puffing on his part, we were left with a steaming bowl of clean water. I dipped a few of the washcloths in it, wringing out access water. Blaze clutched his brother while I slowly but gingerly dabbed small amounts of warm liquid onto his scales. Dip, drip, dab, repeat. Dip, drip, dab, repeat. I kept this up until all of Garble’s scales glistened with moisture. Then I dried him back off. I didn’t know what else I could do for him.
“Let him sleep now, Blaze,” I directed.
“He’s going to be okay, right?” Blaze asked, tucking another pillow under him.
“Right,” I half-heartedly answered. I couldn’t convince myself, but it seemed to give the hatchling courage. He crawled under the sheets next to Garble, offering what body heat he had. I took a place on the velvet couch, keeping watch over the two. He had to pull through. I couldn’t bear to lose anyone else so dear to me. I was worried about Ignition too, and I really wanted to be out searching for her. Still, I couldn’t leave her boys in this condition. The minute Garble woke up, I‘d go out searching.
“What happened?” My eyes fluttered open from my nap on the couch. Garble was now sitting upright, still smothered in the sheets, rubbing his head in an attempt to clear the haze filling it.
“You’re okay!” Blaze joyfully squealed, jumping up into his arms. Garble began to return the embrace, but eyed my tender smile from the side.
“Of course I’m okay. I’m no crybaby.” He removed the hatchling, clearing his throat from embarrassment.
“It’s good to see you again, Garble. How’re you feeling?”
“Fine, fine,” he huffed. “Where’s Mom?”
“I don’t know,” I honestly replied. I picked up a discarded cloak from the heap. It was wrinkled, but would serve as ample protection from the cold.
“She went out looking for you,” Blaze answered.
“She didn’t come back?” Garble looked worried.
“I’m going to look for her. You both stay here. Understand?”
“But that’s what she told me, and she never came back,” Blaze protested.
“You two will freeze the minute you step out that door. I’m best suited for the cold; I‘m going.”
“I’m going with you.”
“You especially, young sir, are going to stay right here. You nearly died of hypothermia from staying out in the cold so long. Stay here with your brother and rest.” Garble looked down at the pleading eyes of his younger sibling, realizing that he did have a responsibility to watch over him while his mother was gone. “I’ll be back soon.” I picked up a scarf, tucked it beneath my cloak, and made for the doorway. The dragons only looked on as I left.
Bitter cold again greeted me. The hood of the cloak shielded my eyes from the stinging missiles we called snowflakes. The sun reflecting off the snow was almost blinding, and I eventually had to fashion my scarf into a snow visor. A few trees had provided enough shelter from the wind for a few footprints to remain intact. These looked like Garble’s prints. I followed them, hoping to get the general idea of the direction I should be heading in. I picked up a couple of sticks to poke into the snow covered soil as markers. If the wind picked up any more, I’d need something more reliable than snow impressions to mark my way back. I silently cursed Celestia. Wings would make this go three times as fast, if not more. My only consolation was that the downfall of snow had lessened. At least now I could see where I was going.
How long had it been? An hour? Two? The sun provided a little warmth, so I walked on the outskirts of the tree line where the evergreens couldn’t cast cold shadows. I was still headed in the general direction of where Garble’s footsteps had led me before I lost the tracks. I was running out of twigs I could use to mark my way, so I started back into the woods for more. However, something bright and golden sparkled in my eye as I bent down, catching me off guard. It had twinkled from beneath a bush. It was a dragon scale. My heart caught in my throat. This belonged to Ignition, I was sure of it. I abandoned my search for the twigs and galloped off.
“IGNITION?” I screamed to the mountains. My voice bounced back as an echo, but I received no real response. I ran on. The trenches in the snow my hooves created served as my only marker, now. “IGNITION!” Despite my cries, no one answered. Nevertheless, I eventually found the yellow dragoness by following a trail of previously shed yellow scales in the snow. She was unmoving in the snow at the bottom of a valley. I slid down the side of the hill down to her side. “Ignition?” I nudged her head. “Come on, come on! Get up! It’s Acrylic. See? Remember me?”
“Acrylic,” the weak voice escaped her lips.
“Yes! Yes! You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. Come on, get up! There’s shelter not far from here. We have to get you warm.” She could hardly move her head, let alone her entire body. I was not giving up on my friend like this. I jumped over her and tried pushing her to her feet. “Get... up...” I grunted, pushing with all my might. There was no way an earth pony like me could lift a ten ton dragon. Actually, it was more like seven tons, now, she’d lost so much weight. Either way, I couldn’t get her to budge.
“Stop,” she finally moaned. “Leave me.”
“I am not giving up on you so easily, old girl. Come on, you have to get up! Do it for your boys!” Her eyes became pained at the mention of her two beloved sons.
“I can’t.”
“They’re waiting for you! Both of them! Get up!”
“I can’t be there for them anymore.”
“Yes, you can. Blaze needs you. Garble will never admit it, but he does too.”
“I’m too far gone, baby.” She used the last of her strength to offer a wing as shelter. I tearfully crawled under it, pressing close to those golden scales in a futile attempt to warm her up. My tears drenched her hide.
“Don’t leave,” I sobbed.
“I’m sorry.”
“MOM!” I peered out from under her wing in time to see Garble swoop down.
“Garble,” she tearfully sighed.
“I told you to stay with Blaze.”
“Mom?” He noted my shaken, quaking form beneath her wing. Everything crashed down on him in a tidal wave of realization. “No... no! Mom, get up!”
“I’m not strong enough, baby,” she crooned, welcoming him to her other wing. The rough and tough bully of a dragon broke down and wept, right then and there. He hugged his dying mother tightly, as though he’d never let go. “Acrylic?” Ignition finally groaned.
“I’m here,” I answered, rushing to her head again.
“I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything,” I vowed. “Tell me.”
“You have to take care of my boys for me. Promise me that?” I looked up at Garble’s defeated form opposite me. He met my eyes, but I saw only sadness in them. He looked away, a fresh flow of tears cascading down.
“I promise.”
“Thank you.” She lay back down. “Garble?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.” She closed her eyes for the last time. “Tell Blaze I love him, too.”