Spike shuddered from the spines atop his head to his tail tip. What was Aldred that their best was not enough to overcome this force of un-nature? Hope had carried everyone thus far, but desperation was slowly giving into exhaustion.
Spike threw up his claws. “Aldred? How is he alive?! When will this end?!” His tiny roar was like a kitten’s mew compared to the roar of Aldred in the background.
Rarity gave him a concerned look. “Spikey, that’s not really helping.”
He slumped back. “What do we do?”
“Spikey, we can’t give now.” The seamstress, Rarity, gave a threadbare smile. Her mane was a mess, yet her natural beauty shone through.
The soldier, Nightshade, propped herself to standing by her lance: her last leg. With her shallow breath and tired tone she still spoke with strength. “No surrender.”
Luna reared upwards upon her hind legs. The image she struck was evocative of Neighpoleon the first before his ill-fated final battle. She was forever bold to the last. “We fight, Sir Spike!”
Each of them was so fragile and strong. They looked expectantly for his lead. Spike smiled. “Alright, let’s do this.”
They finally dared to look over the edge of the tower to see the beast climbing upwards. Aldred, prophesied to swallow the sky, was clawing upwards slowly but dangerously steadily.
Rarity spat. “That horrible brute!”
Nightshade used her lance to gesture to the floating battleships in the distance. “We can order a barrage from dragon and cannon fire to destroy this castle and tower!”
Luna nodded. “The beast cannot be allowed to reach the Door of Darkness. Even the Dragons must realize what is at stake.”
Nightshade looked about. “We need a signal lamp.”
Spike turned to Rarity. “Rarity do you know that flare spell you used that night you saved us?”
Rarity rubbed her hoof. “I do, darling. But I’m afraid I don’t know horse code.”
Nightshade stepped in. “Signal according to my hoof taps.”
Luna looked over the edge. “Sir Spike, we must delay the beast. Aim where I aim.” Her horned sparked with power.
“Gotcha.” Spike nodded.
“Now!” Luna’s horn discharged a line of searing white light at Aldred’s right claw.
Spike followed with a fire ball of his own.
The dragon roared. “I am Aldred!”
“It’s a signal from Luna.” said Twilight, deciphering the lights through her telescope. “All forces are to combine our artillery and fire upon Celestia’s tower? The world’s at stake?”
Fancy Pants swiveled the Twilight’s telescope to figure climbing up the tower.
There came a collective cry. “Aldred lives!?”
Ponies looked nervously at their dragon allies. The pony sized dragon, Spira, and the larger, War Balloon sized, Bahamut were in turn looked upon by the Dragon Generals.
Flames flared from the mouths of several dragons. Pegasi lancers deployed their wings.
Twilight stepped calmly betwixt the groups. “Everyone, Aldred’s going to end the world. We have to stop him. I know we aren’t… friends, but we can’t do this.”
A Bahamut sadly shook his head. “Princess of the Twilight, you must understand. It is Dragon Code.”
Fleur De Lis joined Twilight. “Monsieur master Bahamut, now is the time for your people to seize your freedom. Let not tyrants the likes of Neighpoleon or even this Aldred stop you!”
Bahamut sighed. “It is Dragon Code, we are destroyed either way. You will notice our people are disjointed, bestial, and given to their lusts. Demons reside within our cores.” The great dragon arched his head and gestured to the various Dragon Generals. Shamefully they hung their heads low and accepted his unflattering assessment’s truth. “The Code is all that binds us. If we should break this, then we are destroyed surely as if Aldred ended the world.”
Fancy Pants grit his teeth as he charged a spell. “Bloody hell, must we do this, chaps?”
Twilight shouted. “Spike’s a dragon, he was raised without the code! I saw my little brother grow to have kindness and compassion on his own. You can rise above this! You don’t need a silly little law.”
Only one or two dragons listened to Twilight while the others kept their flames flared.
Spira spoke. “Aldred, fled a duel issued by another thereby forfeiting a legal challenge to his position. By Dragon Code, he no longer leads or represents the Dragon Dominions.”
Several dragons blinked and they turned to Bahamut for validation.
Bahamut nodded and roared with gusto. “By the Code, all dragons are to lend their fire to the Equestrian barrage!”
Twilight smiled as she relaxed her stance. She watched quizzically as Spira slid next to her.
Spira whispered. “You are sister to the dragon, Spike, are you not? I must ask is he truly mated with the Avatar of the Night?” She wringed her claws, nervously. “Good dragons of his stature and bearing are hard to find…”
Twilight hit her hoof on her head.
Luna and Spike’s concentrated fire did little to slow Aldred. Sweat dripped from their heads. In the meanwhile Nightshade conducted Rarity as she used her horn to signal. Blast and beam exploded against Aldred to not even scorch his hide.
Luna wiped the sweat from her brow. “Something is awry; the beast is not trying to even block our blows.”
Spike defied his fear and glared at Aldred’s eyes directly. The eyes were seemingly blank. “I want to test something. Aim for eyes.” He swallowed and unleashed a fireball.
Luna’s laser beam fired into Aldred’s eye following Spike’s blast.
When the smoke cleared, they saw Aldred continue his climb without so much wincing even with the burned out and boiling eye of his.
Spike and Luna gasped.
“Got it!” Rarity finished flashing her signal.
“Wait!” Luna reached out.
The sky cracked with the collective thunder of combined dragon and cannon fire. Errant shells and fireballs ripped through the foundations of the tower. Aldred was covered in a debris shower. Spike, Luna, Rarity, and Nightshade held onto each other as the tower rocked and swayed. Spike pulled them from the ledge as it slipped away. He blinked as the tower piece floated upwards. He was then visually reminded of the black hole in the sky as it devoured the stone. Twilight’s gravity spell was the only thing keeping them from that fate. Then the blasts stopped.
Luna cried. “Signal them to cease while they are reloading! There cannot be another barrage!”
“What’s going on?” asked Rarity.
“Do it!” Spike said.
There came the familiar shake of the tower. They peered over the edge and saw it.
From the stump of Aldred’s missing wing sprung dark tendrils that began forming the skeletal structure of another dark wing. What wounds he’d sustained wept the blackest shadow. The mouth Spike had seen alit with the fires of Tartarus was now frothing a dark fog. The eye they had taken was now replaced by a piercing crimson glow.
Luna recoiled. “Aldred’s become one with his demon, his flesh, twas a mere container. The beast shall soon fly.” She turned to the dark door that was slowly opening. “It draws power from the weakened barrier.”
Spike pulled his head spines. “So killing Aldred only made him stronger?!”
Another roar came. “I a-a-m Al-dre-ed!” It was distorted but did not lack for ferocity.
“What are the words coming out its mouth?” asked Rarity. “What does it want?”
Nightshade narrowed her eyes. “It must only be an echo. The demon has achieved nearly full incarnation into our world. The body is the only thing holding it back.”
Luna sighed. “A demon is creature of agony, it desires death. Should the beast reach the door, our world will be no more.”
Spike winced as a red pulverized chunk of dragon scales fell off. Beneath it was more shadow that began burning away what tatters of flesh that still clung. The demon moved faster in its climb without the weight of its mortal coil. Piece by piece that fell off increased its pace.
Nightshade looked at the dark star in the sky. “The black hole is keeping the tower from collapsing.”
Luna shook her head. “It will not matter, the beast may soon fly.”
The demon’s wings began beating and they felt the updraft of wind from it.
“How the buck do we stop it?!” Spike spat, he noticed his outburst’s effect in spreading fear. Spike swallowed and spoke again, calmly. “How do we stop it?”
Rarity pointed at the door of darkness slowly opening. “The monster’s getting power from this tear. How about we stitch it?”
Nightshade bit her lip. “The demon exists only because of the weakened veil. If we shut it, we may-”
Luna stepped back towards the dark door she pressed her hoof into the arcane lines drawn on the ground. “The ritual… we can complete it and then shut the door. It was Chitania’s original intent.” She began carving more symbols into the intricate magical array.
Spike gasped. “We would need a sacrifice.”
Nightshade sighed. “We would need two… one to open the gate and another to swiftly close it. Chitania planned for me to be one. I volunteer.”
Rarity opened her mouth but Spike spoke ahead. “No way, no one’s being sacrificed.”
Luna continued her work. “If that demon should reach the array, our world will be sacrificed. I shall offer myself.”
Spike’s jaw fell open. “What are you doing?”
Rarity stepped in front of Luna. “No you don’t! The world won’t miss a lowly seamstress! I volunteer!”
Nightshade added. “Princess, you must lead our nation in the post war! You are too valuable.”
Luna matched their gazes. “It is my opportunity to make amends… also my strength is at its limit. My choice is not entirely selfless.” She smiled at Spike. “Forgive me, my love.”
Spike growled at Luna. “I just got you back, and you’re willing to throw yourself away?! Why must you keep learning the same lesson?!”
Luna shook her head. “Thou art a young immortal, thou hath only seen glimpses of mine long life.”
Spike looked into her eyes, pleading. “I still saw the true you.”
Luna nodded. “Then thou know mine pain but perhaps thou know not the degree. Directly or indirectly, this crisis is of my manufacture. Twice now to Tartarus gates I hath brought the world, I cannot bear this guilt.”
Spike growled. “What are you all doing! You’re fighting to be sacrificed?!” His own eyes started leaking. “Stop this… there must be another way.”
Nightshade shook her head. “There isn’t. Now pick the other sacrifice amongst yourselves. It is a given I should die.”
Spike met Nightshade. “You can’t devalue you own life like that! You seem so set that you’re going to be a sacrifice. You mean more than you think!”
“Spike…you…” Nightshade gasped but then looked away.
Spike swiveled to Rarity. “Rarity, you can’t seriously consider this. You’ve given so much already. You’re not lowly!”
He looked to them all. “What about all that we struggled for? What-” Spike felt a pain in the back of his head. He saw Nightshade had smacked the un-bladed side of her lance against his head.
“Forgive us,” Luna frowned.
“Sir Spike.”
“Spikey…”
“Spike…”
“I love you.” Their voices blended as his consciousness faded.
Chapter Decision Point
What was real? The absurdity and cruelty of his life played in his head like a faulty and failing video projector. Events in so little time had forced him to see the world that was always hidden behind the rose filter of his childhood. Still would he be content continuing to live a lie? It all seemed like a cloudy dream.
Luna had shown him so much. His hurt was superficial compared to hers. Yet there was something fundamental in the nature of their pain that brought them together upon a lonely night.
Nightshade sat at the sidelines secretly dreaming of love yet was never noticed by the one she yearned for. To his own life, her role had an eerie uncanny similarity.
Rarity had become a symbol of his old life, the good, and the bad. Yet she proved herself beyond that and broke past their old dynamic.
All three spoke to an aspect of his being. Yet the heart divided was weakened. One could only truly love one. The dream, the lie, was that there were happy endings for all and that he could continue without making a choice… a lie he told himself as a lullaby.
Spike sprung awake from his dream in denial. He screamed through the darkness his first thought. “Don’t do the ritual!”
A voice echoed in the darkness. “It has already come to pass.”
“Luna?”
From the pitch black emerged a pale pony with her own glow. Upon her back were skeletal wings, the horn on head held fast a crown of bone, and in her hooves was a scythe made of a spinal column. Her black mane and blood crimson cloak fluttered in a phantom wind. The presence of this ‘Princess’ was unlike any he’d ever felt. It was categorically different… upon a different tier of power.
The ‘Princess’ smiled and spoke. “Nay, I am Freya, avatar of death. It seems thou hath knocked upon my door. I hath answered.” She spoke in a manner similar to Luna, ancient and powerful.
Spike grinned, nervously to the pony reaper. “We're all dead?”
Freya shook her head. “Ye be betwixt realms. The gate is open, soon our worlds will merge and death shall prevail with no more veil.”
“I guess we don't want that do we?”
Freya nodded. “Indeed, the land of dead shall be a most dull place without fresh souls. However, to close the gate there must be soul toll. Thy friends...”
Spike lowered his spiny brow and glowered at Freya. “I'm not picking someone to sacrifice!”
Freya frowned. “Thou art to not choose the sacrifice. Each of thy friends: the avatar of Night, Luna: her heart laden with guilt, the thestral Nightshade: the sorrowful soldier, and the seamstress lady Rarity ever so generous: each of them hath willingly given themselves to save the world. I need only take two souls for the toll. One for opening the gate and another to close it now. Which of these fair maidens wouldst thou hath live?”
Spike sucked in his breath. He stammered. “W-W-What you need two?”
Freya’s head rose as if staring above. She lifted her scythe, letting it hang above Spike’s neck for a moment. “We are all subjects to the tyranny of time choose wisely and swiftly. Thou need not speak the name aloud; in thy heart I shall hear it ring.”
“I think of a name and I condemn two of my best friends to death?! How is this a choice? How could I ever live with myself afterwards?!”
“I do not see it thus. Such choices are made every day. Countless children are unborn to the whim of fate and fancy. The soldiers that protect your borders, do they not sacrifice so that others may live? There is no judgment to be made. I am here to but guard the gate. Thy guilt is unfounded and a choice does not condemn thee. Death is simply a state of being. Choose none and thou however will condemn this world.”
Spike scowled. “I don't expect a goddess to understand.”
Freya frowned again. She tapped her scythe impatiently. “Thou art not meant to understand. Thou art meant to choose. Do not tarry. The veil must be maintained. I shall take all if thou choose none.”
Spike pointed a claw at himself. “What about me? What if I were to choose myself?”
Freya frowned, again. “Thou thinks thyself a martyr? The annals of history are filled with fools who senselessly sacrifice. What of those that must suffer thy absence? True happiness tis a beauteous and elusive thing. Thou could achieve such now or cast many into misery.”
The pale pony stared at her scythe and lovingly the caressed the weapon. She gently kissed the skull that was mounted on the blade. Spike spotted a glimmering drop from Freya’s eyes. Was it a tear? For a moment death was warm.
It made him regret his earlier cruel comment and he prodded only as much as he dared. “Who was he?”
“A soldier who became a lover, we flirted often. Twas a time of strife and war.”
Freya cleared her throat. Her scythe glowed with white light. “Time ticks towards the end of everything. Make thy choice for now and forever.”