//------------------------------// // Chapter The Third // Story: Words to Live By // by RaylanKrios //------------------------------// The next morning, despite protests that it really wasn’t necessary,Twilight accompanied her assistant to Ponyville’s train station. The pair stood on the platform; an awkward silence hung between them as they waited for the 9:00 train to Canterlot. “Do you have everything you need?” Twilight asked, fidgeting with the buttons on her jacket, that she was using her hooves and not magic betrayed her mood more than anything else. Spike rolled his eyes. “Yes Twilight, I have everything I need for a trip to far away Canterlot, where I’m staying at a castle that has anything I might have possibly forgotten; not that it would be possible to forget anything with all the lists you made.” Twilight winced and a twinge of guilt shot through Spike’s chest; he used the moment to study his caretaker. She was usually a little neurotic about organization and being prepared, but this felt different. Ever since last night, when she learned of Spike’s desire to explore his origins, she had been decidedly doting, insisting on doing the dishes and tucking him in, even though he was long past the age where Twilight needed to do either of those things. “I’m sorry, are you okay, Twi? You’ve been acting funny ever since you got back.” Twilight sighed.The platform of the ponyville train station was not conducive for a heartfelt conversation. It was far too exposed and noisy for that. “Dragons and Ponies don’t exactly get along,” she said.  “I guess I’m just worried that you’ll find out that being a dragon means you have to leave.” Twilight stared at the ground. “I don’t want you to leave,” she whispered. Spike considered Twilight’s fear, at his core he knew it wasn’t outlandish.  As far as he could tell he was pretty much the only dragon who lived amongst ponies, what if there was a reason for that? Images of all the times Twilight cared for him, played with him, loved him ran through his mind. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. “I promise, no matter what I learn I’m coming back, okay Twi?” he said rushing forward to give her a hug. The pair held each other for a too brief moment before the conductor’s “All aboard” call forced them to break apart. The train ride to Canterlot was not long, Spike arrived at Canterlot Castle late in the morning but still well shy of the afternoon. To most of the citizens of Equestria, Canterlot Castle was an intimidating and lavish monument. But to Spike, it was merely a large house. Until he moved to Ponyville he never knew anything else, so while other ponies viewed it as a symbol of the authority of Equestiria’s monarchy, he viewed it as home. He arrived with little fanfare, the guards at the gate waving him through without hesitation. Walking through the ornately furnished hallway, toward the room that he and Twilight once shared, he heard a voice call out his name from behind him. “Spike!” Spike wheeled around, only to be shocked at who was addressing him. “Princess Celestia!” he gasped, before hastily bowing as he fumbled with his bag. “Oh Spike, you’ve known me long enough to know that you don’t need to use my title,” Celestia replied, bidding him to rise with a nod. “Sorry,” Spike said sheepishly. “Umm thanks for letting me stay here; I’ll try not to get in the way.” Celestia dismissed his concern with a quick wave of her hoof. “Nonsense Spike, you know you are always welcome. Get in the way as much as you wish. Toward that end is there anything you require?” It took a moment for Spike to register that the most powerful pony in Equestria, both magically and politically, asked him if he needed anything, as though she was some sort of waitress. He couldn’t help but wonder if a dragon would be so accommodating. Celestia could have just as easily sent one of her many assistants, or just a scroll. She didn’t have to come find him, she knew Spike was aware of the library’s location and she undoubtedly had more important things to worry about regardless. Yet here she was, patiently waiting for a response. “I think I’m okay, no one’s reorganized the library since Twilight decided that the previous system wasn’t academically rigorous enough, have they?” Spike replied, decidedly humbled by the question. Celestia laughed at the memory of a filly Twilight pulling all the books off the shelves because history and sociology were on opposite sides of the room, it was filled with affection. “No, nopony since Twilight has ever complained about how the library is organized.” “Then I think I have everything I need.” “Wonderfull. The kitchen is at your disposal should you require, and if you are still here for dinner I would be delighted if you would join me for a meal,” Celestia said with a warm smile so genuine that Spike couldn’t help but be humbled for a second time. “Thank you,” was the only reply he could muster, but he made sure to look Celestia in the eye when he said it. Spike and Twilights old room was much as they had left it.  A basket, now a little too small for him rested at the foot of the lone bed in the room; another reminder of who had cared for him when he was small enough that that basket was larger than it needed to be. Twilight had long sent for most of the important mementos when she decided to take up residence in Ponyville, but there were still a few trinkets left over from her days as a student.  An old telescope by the window and a few books on the shelves of the numerous bookshelves, including more than a few on child care. Spike set his stuff on the nightstand, it felt a little weird to think that he was going to be sleeping in Twilight’s bed, but the basket was too small and he really didn’t want to request a different room. Eager to get started on this leg of his quest, Spike hurried over to the library. He didn’t recognize the mare sitting at the reception desk, but that wasn’t altogether surprising, the castle staff numbered in the hundreds and turnover wasn’t uncommon. “Hi, I’m Spike,” Spike said, walking up to desk. If there was one place he felt confident it was in libraries. The receptionist, a yellow coated, red maned mare, smiled at him.  “Hello Spike, I’m Quick Quill, I’m the librarian. Princess Celestia of course told us you were coming so I’ve taken the liberty of setting you up in study room A. I’ve also already pulled a few selections that might interest you, but I’d be happy to help you find more.” “Gosh, thanks.  Umm I guess I’ll let you know if I need anything,”Spike stammered, unprepared for his visit to have been announced in advance. Spike spent the next few hours going through the books Quick Quill had selected as well as some of the more obscure titles he hunted down from the shelves; but despite the voluminous collection of books at the castle, and the help of the library’s staff Spike found himself no closer to answering what it meant to be a dragon than when he left Ponyville.There were certainly more books then housed in Twilight’s castle library but the increased volumes still contained the same inadequate answers as the books in Ponyville. As the sun began to set, coating the stacks in a soft light Spike heard the sound of hoofsteps on the marble floor. He looked up to see Princess Celestia standing over him. “Have you found what you’re looking for?” Spike snorted in frustration. “No!  There’s hundreds of books in here and not one of them can tell me what it means to be a dragon!” Celestia nodded. “That sounds like a difficult question to answer. I have often found that the answers to such questions are seldom found in books.” “But I’ve got to look somewhere. It’s not like there’s going to be another great migration anytime soon that I can go to.” Celestia smiled down at the distressed dragon in front of her. “I believe I may be able to help. The dragon’s ambassador to Equestria is in Canterlot for summit.  I would be happy to arrange a meeting between the two of you, if you wish.” Spike’s eyes grew wide at the prospect of actually being able to talk to another dragon.  He’d only done so one other time, at the dragon migration, and that didn’t go very well. “You’d do that for me?” “For all you have done for Equestria, and for Twilight, It is the least I can do.” The dragon ambassador’s office wasn’t actually part of Canterlot Castle’s diplomatic wing.  Rather, as a gesture of friendship, a small cave had been carved into the mountainside of the mountains that abated the castle. Sculptors had labored for weeks, carving stalactites and stalagmites into the ceiling and floor respectively, in addition they had taken great care to artificially weather the rest of the walls to present the illusion that the cave had formed as the result of natural processes, and not a dedicated team of unicorns. Behind an ornate cherry wood desk, encrusted with jewels of all colors, sat a pile of bits, with the occasional gold bar and jeweled candelabra sticking out. Spike’s heartbeat increased and he felt a noticeable twitch in his claws as he took in the sight. The ambassador was smaller than Spike imagined. He was still about three times Spike’s size, but he was nowhere near as big as some of the other dragons Spike had seen, nor as big as he himself grew when he had been possessed by greed. His scales were the color of rust, but they were offset by the vibrant yellow plates on his back. “So you are Spike, the dragon raised by ponies,” the ambassador said, his rich baritone reverberating off the cave walls. It was unclear if his statement was a question or merely a declaration. Spike wasn’t really sure how to respond. He got the sense that the older dragon was testing him somehow, as though his reaction would reveal something to the ambassador.  “I’m still a dragon,” he said, setting his jaw. The ambassador let out a chuckle, it sounded like a small earthquake. “I am called Ch'tulash, but many ponies simply call me Lash.” Spike rolled the name around on his tongue, “Ch’tulash.” It felt heavy in his mouth. “Thanks for meeting me,” he said.  “When The Morningstar requests a favor, only a fool considers it a request,” Ch’tulash’s said as a wry grin crossed his face. “Huh, Morning Star? I thought Princess Celestia asked you to meet with me.”  “Whom you call Celestia, we call The Morning Star.” “I guess that makes sense, I mean the sun is a star,” Spike said with a shrug, recalling one of Twilight’s many astronomy lessons. “That is both true and irrelevant, a morning star is also a fearsome weapon.” Spike quickly reviewed his knowledge of military hardware gleaned from all the time he spent studying knights. A morning star was the name given to a spiked ball that hung from a chain attached to a stick. Between the barbs and the weight of the ball, a direct hit could fell even a heavily armored opponent with one blow. It was for that reason that morning stars were still the favored weapon for griffons and minotaur infantry soldiers.The simple brutality of such a weapon contrasted sharply with what Spike knew of the princess. “But Celestia’s the nicest pony I know, well one of them anyway. I mean Twilight’s pretty nice and of course Fluttershy and-” The elder dragon held up a sinewed claw. “Allow me to tell you a story, young whelp. And perhaps at the end you will understand more about dragons and Princess Celestia.” Spike nodded and sat down on the cave floor, bringing his knees close to his chest as he looked up in wonder. The elder dragon spoke slowly. “There exists an abandoned gold mine near the mountain range that marks the border separating Equestria from Drakenguard. The veins have all run dry now, but many years ago, before even I was hatched, it was a thriving deposit. “Celestia had only recently unified the three tribes and the borders of Equestria were still contested by our kind. During the negotiations, a dragon named Grunt decided to claim the mine as  part of his hoard. He flew to a nearby mining town and threatened to lay waste to the entire town unless the ponies paid tribute, the entirety of the mine’s gold.” Spike’s pony upbringing asserted itself as he balked in horror. “That’s not fair!” Ch’tulash ignored the outrage. “A dragon is entitled to what he can hoard,” he explained briefly. “The ponies had no choice, for they were no match for Grunt. Of course, it takes time to mine an entire deposit. Only a few hours had passed when the Morning Star arrived. Back then she was merely Celestia, at least among our kind. She gave Grunt a choice, much as he had done for the ponies; he could leave with the day’s spoil minus a fair wage for the ponies who had worked the mine, or he could face Celestia under the Code Duello. “The Code Duello?” Spike asked. Ch’tulash responded with another brief explanation “The code that governs war between the nations of Terra. In this case, because Grunt was asserting the mine as part of his territory, it was a considered a border dispute between a baron and the monarchy of Equestria. In such a situation, rather than engage in open warfare, both sides send a single warrior to fight for their cause, and the winner gets to keep the contested territory.” Spike leaned forward, hanging on every word spoken by the elder dragon. “Whoa, cool! What happened?” “Grunt looked across the field, saw a winged unicorn half his size, and laughed. He agreed to the duel. Duels are fought under the eyes of the council of elders to ensure that both participants abide by the rules. It is also tradition for leaders to name a champion to fight in their stead, lest a simple border dispute result in a regime change.” “So who’d Celestia pick as her champion? Was it Star Swirl? or Commander Hurricane? o-or!” Ch’tulash narrowed his eyes sharply, “The Morning Star needs no champion. The next day she strode into the arena, the sun burning fiercely at her back. She again offered Grunt a choice; surrender and leave, never to darken her door again, or continue on his present course toward his own demise.” “I’m guessing he didn’t surrender?” “He did not. The arbiter dropped the flag and Celestia unleashed the full wrath of the sun upon the unsuspecting dragon.” Spike’s mouth hung open, he had seen Celestia cast magic, and it was an impressive sight, but he had never even heard of Celestia using the sun itself as a weapon. “Whoa. Go Celestia!” “Indeed. Even his bones were turned to ash.” “Really? I thought dragon scales were immune to fire.” If Ch’tulash was annoyed by Spike’s constant queries, he didn’t show it. “Our scales are fire resistant. Even at your young age, you could stand in a campfire and be no more that mildly uncomfortable. Stand in a raging forge however and you would probably suffer rather severe burns. The power Celestia brought to bear; no dragon alive or dead could have withstood.” Spike nodded, waiting for the ambassador to finish his story. “Her victory won, Celestia turned to the Council of Elders and declared – in no uncertain terms – that as long as she reigned, she would serve as champion for all of Equestria and that any dragon who wished to claim anything within her borders as part of their hoard would meet the same fate as Grunt. That was the last time a dragon dared to challenge Equestria’s borders.” His tale finished, Ch’tulash leaned back in his chair and waited for a response. Naturally, he didn’t have to wait long. Spike carefully considered the implications of the story he just heard.  As far as he knew a dragon had never attacked Equestria. The closest he had ever heard was that one dragon who decided to nap near ponyville, at that could hardly be considered  a hostile action. “So the only reason dragons don’t attack Equestria, is because of Princess Celestia?” Spike asked, desperate for an answer that would exonerate his speicies. “Dragons respect strength. If you cannot defend what is yours, you cannot rightfully claim ownership.” “But Twilight always says that it’s wrong to take what isn’t yours.” Ch’tulash’s eyes grew narrow again and his tone became sharp. “Twilight has taught you the morality of the ponies. A morality built by frail creatures, constructed to protect the weak from the strong. We dragons view the world quite differently.” Finally Spike felt like he was approaching the answers he was seeking, though he wasn’t sure he was going to like them. He waited with baited breath for the answer to his next question. “How do dragons view the world?” “As a war.”