Chapter 8: The Visitors
Chapter 8: The Visitors
The four Mah’Qua sat there, tied together, each one more than a trifle miffed that they’d be late.
Oh, they’d been late before. The cats had been blown off course. They’d been lost in storms, and they’d had cargo-handling problems. Yeah, they’d been late before, and their feline wiles had handled the situations as they’d developed.
This was the first time they’d be late due to pirates, though.
Actually, the more that they thought about it, the more the term “miffed” didn’t really apply. Also, if they were being honest with themselves, being late didn’t quite rank that high on their list of concerns. A more accurate description of what was going through their thoughts at the moment would have been “terrified out of their minds” and “sick with fear that they were about to have their throats slit”.
That the pirates seemed to be mostly ponies, a people who the Mah’Qua, these cats, had tried to take advantage of at times, didn’t help put that fear to rest.
It certainly wasn’t made much better as the one wearing the tattered remains of a uniform came forward, his spurs drawn and something held out in his hoof.
“Hello,” he said. “Would you happen to have the sequel to this?”
The four cats looked at one another, and then back up to the pony. His mane, held in locks, sat covered by his tri-corner hat, the brown fading with some shocks of grey into the yellow of his uniform.
“T-the sequel?” asked one venturesome cat, noting the way that the pony’s spurs jingled as he leafed through the book.
“Yes,” the pony answered, shaking the blue cuffs of the uniform free of the spurs, new tears appearing across them. “The sequel. You see, this author, he was never able to repeat the success he had with this work, and he spent the rest of his career trying to do so, but all that his readers wanted was him to make the sequel to this story. His heart wasn’t in it, though. It was a lesser work.”
The pony coughed a little, one of his braids coming lose, his face scrunching up behind his tiny glasses.
“It’s all quite tragic really, that he never was able to do so, and I was just wondering if you happened to have the sequel here on your ship, perhaps?” he asked, his hooves folding through the book once more.
“What… what was the title?” asked another one of the Mah’Qua, the cats suddenly finding themselves more interested in the request of this one pony than, say, the way their ship was being ransacked around them.
“I’m sorry, what?” answered the pony, lifting his tri-corner hat to put his braid back in place. The long glint of his spurs shone out as he did so, reminding them that the ponies that were now swarming over their ship were not making a social call.
“The title… the title of the sequel?” asked a third cat, the creature twisting and turning his body within his ropes, trying to face the pirate. “What was the title of the sequel?”
“Oh, of course, forgive me,” said the pony. “I’m quite sure that I have no idea. I simply was trying to make some polite conversation.”
The four Mah’Qua blinked in unison.
“Cap’n,” came a new voice, and as the sounds of the pirates began to withdraw a tangerine-coated colt (at least they thought it was a colt) came trotting into the cabin, saluting as he laid a leather binder before the uniformed pony. “We’ve completed our search. Here is a comprehensive list of everything we’re taking off of this ship, itemized and in duplicate. Here you go, sir.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” said the captain, accepting the papers into his hoof. “It took all of this time? And look, look at this line here! Why, you didn’t even indent this line. A poor showing, Vimbert… a poor showing all around.”
“Yessir. Sorry, sir,” said the colt (at least they believed him… her, it, to be a colt). “It won’t happen again, sir.”
The grumbling pony left the cabin, leaving the uniformed one with the cats. They watched as his eyes followed the mumbling, petulant form as it departed the cabin, and then a smirk came over his face.
“Actually, that was probably damn close to our record time,” said the pony, motioning out the door, a certain amount of pride falling from him. “And the forms are all immaculate as well. Can’t let that one get too cocksure, though, now can we?”
The cats blinked in unison once again.
“Now,” he said, laying the papers before the prisoners, the quartet of cats leaning forward, each filled with the famed curiosity of their kind, “here you’ll find a grand list of all we’ve taken, useful for giving to insurance adjusters, corporate lawyers, international police communities, your friends, your pets, your pet’s friends, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, ad infinitum.”
The pony coughed again, excused himself, and stood there staring at them blankly.
The cats, once again, blinked in unison. Long moments passed there, the boat bobbing on the calm waters as blinking, staring, and coughing held reign over the very, very, very odd day that was shaping up around them.
“H-hey, now… I must say, I think we’re owed an explanation,” began the most vocal of the Mah’Qua, “You can’t think that we aren’t going to file a protest, or press charges…”
“I understand. This must be horribly confusing for you,” answered the pony, nodding his head, “I hope there’s some comfort for you in realizing that I don’t particularly care. Also, minotaur.”
“M-minotaur?” answered the cat.
“Minotaur,” replied the pony.
“Minotaur?!” replied the bundle of Mah’Qua.
“Minotaur,” answered the minotaur, stepping within the cabin, watching their eyes go wide. “Cap’n, we’ve finished loading, and are ready to be off.”
“Thank you, Vise Grip. Have we already brought the engines up to speed?” the pony asked, settling the book back into its spot on the small, disheveled bookcase.
“Yessir, Cap’n,” replied Vise Grip, the huge creature rolling his muscles around in all sorts of unseemly positions as he tried to fit within the confines of the cabin. “Vimbert kept them at the ready, in case we had to be off in a hurry.”
“Huh, that was a good idea. That was a splendid idea,” spoke the pony, running his hoof through his beard as he pondered the other titles. “Be sure to remind me to give him a hard time about wasting fuel or some such thing when we get back aboard.”
A smirk crossed the minotaur’s face, even that act seeming to send further muscles rippling around his body. “Heh… yessir, Cap’n, sir. He’ll love that, sir.”
“That colt’s going to slit my throat some night, you know,” chuckled the pony.
“Heh,” answered the minotaur, “yessir.”
“Ummm…” spoke the awkwardly placed cat, the one facing the wall. “I… I do hate to interrupt…”
“Oh!” replied the pony, looking up from the bookshelf. “Speaking of which…”
The pony unsheathed his spur once more, the thin stiletto blade clicking into place once again.
“Do excuse me, Vise. I’ll be along shortly.”
The minotaur nodded, committed more obscene acts with his muscles to dislodge himself from the cabin, and then left the pony alone with the cats.
The Mah’Qua slowly shifted their eyes from the departing minotaur to the uniformed officer who slowly advanced upon them. There was the shine of light catching on something metallic, the hiss of something moving through the air at speed. At once there was the unmistakable sound of a spur, that weapon unique to ponies, slicing through something that offered it resistance.
The cats opened their eyes to the realization that all of their throats were remarkably intact.
They looked to one another, and then spilled across the deck of the cabin as the rope that had bound them together split. The cats tumbled across each other, landing in a jumble that completely lacked all of the grace and poise that stereotypically marked their kind.
“I hope that you have enjoyed this act of unjustifiable piracy,” came the voice of the pony, and the Mah’Qua looked up to find him standing in the doorway. “If you have any complaints, please be aware that I don’t particularly care. However, if it makes you feel better, you can address your letter of complaint, criticism, and any spare change you may have to Cap’n…”
The pony coughed, and then coughed some more. He then smacked his lips… and stood there, just looking out over the sea beyond.
“Cap’n?” came one little voice, another of the cats.
“Hmmm?” answered the pony, looking back within the cabin.
“Well… your name? Captain what?” the cat asked, uncertain sounds falling through its voice.
The pony arched one eyebrow, then the other. In a moment a look of enlightenment fell over him, and he gave a chuckle.
“Oh! Oh, of course,” he said smiling back to them. “I don’t have one. I lost it in the war, you see. Also, it is just ‘Cap’n’… no ‘tai’, as it were.”
“Lose that in ‘The War’, too?” asked another one of the cats incredulously.
“No, of course not. That’s ridiculous. What a ridiculous thing to say. You, sir, are ridiculous,” replied the pony, regarding him with contempt. “I had it painted out. Goodbye now.”
With that he raised a foreleg, and at once was lifted into the air.
The cats stood, making their way to the door as they lifted themselves out of their uncomfortable positions. They moved out onto the deck to find the hiss of steam and magic falling around them, and rivulets of water falling across the deck of their little boat.
Above their heads, a trim little airship lifted into the air, a billowing mass of fabric and great long timbers lifting across the bow of their ship.
“Well, talk about eccentric,” said one, placing his paws over his eyes, shielding them from the sun as he watched the craft depart. “I wonder if he’ll ever find that sequel?”
Of the four cats, only the oldest had already begun to move to make any sense of what had just happened. As the airship circled them once, he lifted the inventory to see how badly they had fared.
His mind boggled.
Their ship had been carrying silks, spices, trade goods of all shapes and varieties.
None of it had been touched.
When his old sailor’s wisdom settled in, he realized what had been taken. The cat felt something growing softer in him, something that spoke to pity rather than anger or want of revenge.
He joined his three juniors, and with one last peek at the signature he let the inventory slip from his claws and go sailing out over the waves.
He watched the airship until it disappeared into a bank of heavy clouds, wondering all the while what could be hunting the pony, what Cap’n could possible be fleeing from.
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“The Pillar of the Sun?” replied Artificer Call, the older stallion slowly lowering the newspaper to the counter.
Spike leaned forward, awaiting the reply of the historian.
This could be it, this could be the first step towards helping Twilight wake up. This could be the clue that lead him down a path towards presenting the doctors with that one little slice of information that could help… that would let her open her eyes.
“The Pillar… of the Sun,” Call repeated, placing a rather unnecessary space directly in the middle of his words. The pony looked to the floor, drawing Spike’s stare at the same undefined spot amid the tiles.
“The Pillar of the Sun,” the historian said, rubbing his chin, invoking an intellectual hum as he pondered the words.
Spike bounced on the stool, little leaps of anxiety, awaiting the sudden flood of knowledge that the pony was soon to…
“No,” Artificer Call finally said. “I don’t believe that I’ve ever heard of it.”
Spike’s right eye gave a series of spasms, twitching involuntarily, as he stared at the pony. Spike’s eye twitched some more, and Call suddenly got the feeling that if he didn’t say something very soon the dragon might have some kind of episode.
And, as that would be rather upsetting, he pressed the child for some more information.
“Describe the artifact to me, dear boy,” he said, pushing the tiny glasses farther up his nose. “Was it a piece of jewelry? Or was it a weapon, a…”
“It was a pillar!” wailed Spike, jumping to his feet, standing on the stool. “That’s why Princess Celestia called it ‘The Pillar of the Sun’!”
“Well, I can hardly know that!” answered Call, leaning back, away from the exasperated little dragon, only just seeing the tired, exhausted look that hovered in Spike’s eyes, the dark rings that sat beneath. “Artifacts change with time! They are re-forged, broken, enchanted… all sorts of things can happen to them. The Ring of Vida is a spear! Drojhen’s Mask is a series of riddles written on crystals! The Cytic Feather is currently a mountain in Saddle Arabia, and will be until the next…”
Artificer Call stopped short, looking back at the dragon so hard that the Spike spun around on his seat, staring past himself to where he assumed Call’s eyes were falling. Spike’s eyes looked up, down, left and right, and then he spun around to Call once again, startling when he found the pony hovering over him, a look of copious glee painted across his features.
“Dear boy!” announced Call. “I don’t know about the Pillar of the Sun, and it could quite possibly go by another name! Do you know what this means? Can you possibly know what this means?!”
“W-what!? What does it mean!?” asked Spike, dancing upon the stool, waving his arms around frantically.
“It means that I can issue another edition of my book once we figure out what it is! I’ll be able to redo the downstairs lavatory this year!” Call said, his smile going wide.
Spike went stark still, and he stared deep into the older stallion’s eyes.
In the kitchen of the café, Pony “Doughnut” Joe was just finishing up preparing a small lunch for Spike to take back to the hospital when his eyes caught a photograph sitting in his little countertop window.
Allspice stared back at him from within the photo, the mare’s soft eyes reaching for his. Her shoulder was up just that much, as though asking him to follow as she began to turn…
A resounding thud sounded through the café, and Joe was startled out of his pondering. Allspice’s gentle, longing gaze was replaced by the visage of Artificer Call… which wasn’t nearly as enticing in any possible manner.
“Oh, Joe, sorry to bother you,” the older stallion said, peering within the little window that separated the kitchen and the counter, “but is there any chance that I may have a paper bag, or even one of those demure little paper hats that you wear about the shop?”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” replied Joe, lifting the hat off of his own head with his magic and passing it to Call. “Any particular reason why?”
“Oh, well… ummm, you see, I think I broke the dragon,” he said.
“Okay, Spike, just breath, buddy,” Joe said moments later, holding the dragon off the floor. As the little paper hat inflated and deflated, Spike slowly regained the use of his senses.
“I… I do apologize, dear boy,” said Call, anxiously dancing his hooves as he stared down at the whelp. “I didn’t mean to imply that my sole concern was monetary gain. I do hope that you recognized that I mean to help you discover what this Pillar of the Sun could possibly be.”
Spike recovered so quickly that the hat fumbled through his arms and ended up sitting on his head.
“R-really?” he asked. “Do… do you mean it?”
“Well, yes, of course I do,” said Call, his gaze wandering around a bit, taken aback by Spike’s sudden revival. “Yes… yes I will. I’ll meet you at the Royal Archives this afternoon at, shall we say…”
Artificer Call had lived a long and varied life. He had seen many wonders, and had experienced many things. As his eyes went wide, he added “received a hug from a dragon whelp” to his list.
“Thank you! Thanks so much!” Spike cried, wrapping his arms around the stallion’s legs.
“Heh heh, whoa there, Spike, take a second to breathe, kiddo!” said Joe, tapping Spike on the back, reminding the boy that he’d been on the floor in a state of shock a moment before. “Lemme get ya another glass of water before…”
Water. Cold water. Rainbows. A little rainbow sitting across the wall of the hospital room.
“Omigosh!” Spike called, jumping in place. “Twilight’s water! I hafta get back to the hospital!”
Spike took off running towards the door, but before he could he made a wide circle back to the two stallions. “I’ll see ya there at like, two o’clock? Okay?” he said to Call, not even slowing down as he went past.
Spike ran towards the door again, but once more a wide arc of a circle brought him back to where the stallions stood. “Thanks, Mr. Call, sir! Thanks for the breakfast, and the lunch, Joe!”
The two began to reply, but Spike’s hurried exit towards the door continued unabated. Soon he reached the door, but without stopping he once more completed a long circle, bringing him back to where Joe and Artificer Call stood watching his exhibition.
Spike finally stopped, grasping each of the stallions in a hug before once again pelting off, this time making it through the doors and into the streets beyond, the little paper hat still clinging to his head and the bagged lunch waving at his side.
“Well, that was certainly interesting,” said Call, retaking his seat. “He certainly is devoted to Princess Twilight Sparkle, isn’t he?”
“That he is,” Joe replied, pouring Call his last complimentary cup of tea. Joe smiled as he did, thinking on Twilight and Spike. What’s a smart cookie without some milk, after all?
Spike went back down the high street of the capital, sheepishly passing fireponies contemplating the ashes of several small, mysterious fires as he did.
He sighed heavily, his eyes only set on the dim outline of the hospital beyond. The city was fully awake now, and ponies went up and down the streets, each one concerned with their own affairs.
Spike noticed none of it, and as his little feet carried him along, he could only focus on the hospital.
“Hey!” called the receptionist. “You have to sign in!”
He pelted past.
“Meh, nevermind,” she said, watching him go.
He never even heard her, he just went right past. He went past more medical carts, more recognizable faces, more familiar faces that called out, questioning how his breakfast had been.
He ignored them all. He simply kept running… kept running back to Twilight. She might be up, she might already be up and she didn’t have any cold water and she didn’t have a rainbow and if he wasn’t there she’d think that he didn’t care about her and, and, and…
He careened past the waiting room, and as he did his thoughts distracted him… and only a small fragment of his mind registered the flash of white that stood out on a pony’s coat as he went past.
As he went along hooffalls, ones that seemed alive with worry, emerged from the waiting room and began to trot down the hallway after him.
He simply kept running. Running past the nurse’s station, running down the hallway…
He turned into Twilight’s room, and skidded to a stop.
Familiar colors met him, and eyes lifted to him as he appeared in the doorway.
“Hiya, Spike!” said Pinkie, staring back at him with a vast, wide smile. “We were wondering where you were and stuff!”
Instantly her warm, blue eyes fell to his emerald ones, and she knew that she’d said the absolutely, perfectly wrong thing. Hurt showed in his eyes, and at once Pinkie blanched.
“I mean, I know that you are usually here, that you’ve been stayin’ with Twilight and stuff and that you haven’t been leaving and so we were glad that you weren’t here… but we don’t mean that we don’t want you here!” she said, drawing a massive breath. Across the bed, Applejack regarded her words with growing concern.
Pinkie continued. “It’s just that we don’t want you to be here, but we don’t mean that in the bad way, what we mean is…”
“What she means, Spike,” Applejack said, reaching her hoof across Twilight’s bed, careful to avoid touching the still unmoving alicorn, “is that we know you’re usually here with her and all, and that we’re glad that ya got out for a spell.”
Slowly, Applejack dropped her hoof, and together the earth ponies walked, and bounced, over to him, nuzzling their faces to his. Their eyes lifted from him, meeting those of another pony, the same one whose hooves had followed him down the hallway.
“Ain’t happy to have to say it, Spike,” Applejack said, dropping his eyes over him once more, “but the princess was right, ya look horrible. Even worse than ya did the last time ah was here, and you were a sight then.”
“Wowie, Spike,” Pinkie added, leaning close to him, “pressing her face close to his, “you’ve got dark rings under the dark rings under your eyes… which also have dark rings!”
Spike wavered on his feet, trying to think of some small reply, some way to answer the ponies. Before he could, he felt the paper hat lift from his head, and the lunch bag slip from his hand. A blue aura surrounded them, lifting to the distant countertop, settling them gently. A white foreleg fell across him, and he knew there was only one pony it could be.
“Oh, Spike,” Rarity said, pulling him a little closer. “You look a fright, darling.”
She pressed him against her chest, and her hoof went through his frills.
“Oh, my poor Spikey-Wikey.”
He looked up to her, saw the concern and worry that sat over her face, and saw it in the faces of Pinkie Pie and Applejack, too.
“But, I… I just had breakfast,” he said laying his head against her foreleg, the words falling out of him as though he were attempting to offer some kind of proof that he was well, that he was okay. “I j-just had breakfast.”
The three ponies stared to one another. They seemed largely unconvinced.
Spike had hardly been the only creature at Twilight’s bedside. He may have been the first to her side when the doctors had brought her to this room, but he was hardly the sole pony to show her concern.
In the first few days he had scarcely had room to move as her family and friends had gathered to her. Cadence, Shining Armor, Mr. Dad and Mrs. Mom (as he had long called Twilight’s parents), Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie, Dash, Fluttershy, and Princess Celestia and Princess Luna had all made appearances.
They came and went in something akin to a pattern, like a symphony. Her parents played the part of a metronome, keeping time as her brother and sister-in-law became the melody, her friends the harmony.
And, over it all, stood a little conductor, waving his baton over the components as they came and went. Spike just stood there throughout the whole thing, keeping his unwavering ear to the music… waiting, hoping for the crescendo.
Over the weeks, the numbers of visitors had thinned, the music growing dim.
He thought about that as small conversation flit over the group, and as he leapt up to the sink once more he found it still low on glasses. He grumbled at Pacemaker under his breath, catching himself as he did. It wasn’t even noon, the orderly hadn’t even gotten to that part of his routine yet.
Spike fumbled the glass in his hand. He had shocked himself when he realized that he already knew all of the routines, that he had deciphered the daily practices of the hospital.
He had shocked himself further as he realized he was now so tired and withdrawn that he was forgetting them.
He looked up from the glass to see Pinkie, Applejack, and Rarity looking to him. “Heh,” he said, filling the glass with the cold water that splashed through the sink.
“Heh,” he repeated as he walked slowly towards Twilight’s bed, the nervous laugh sitting starkly against the backdrop of the concerned faces that looked over him.
He set the cup on the nightstand, moving it just slightly so that it painted a small rainbow across the white walls of the room once again.
He turned to rest his head against the bed once again, to assume “the position”, but as he turned to look upon Twilight’s unopened eyes he felt the touch of a hoof to his back. Rarity sat behind him, her hoof still held up to him, and understanding her invitation he slid backwards, resting in the space between her forelegs and against her chest and barrel.
He leaned against her foreleg, and at once he was reminded of sitting with Celestia the day before. It was warm, close, comforting…
… but it wasn’t Twilight. It just wasn’t Twilight.
The conversation bobbled along in predictable waves for an hour. Life in Ponyville, he gleaned from the conversation, was progressing as per the usual script, as though some vast intellects had sat down and planned everything out. Only his few lines were going off in some unknown direction, as though some lesser god had put his hands to writing the story of these last two weeks.
There were fields of apple trees just coming into bloom in the April sun, and he knew that he would miss walking down the long rows as they erupted into their blossoms. The soft feel of the petals beneath his feet as he had walked Apple Bloom home from school one afternoon reached for him, and he could almost smell the flowers around him as Applejack spoke of them.
Pinkie too went around the room, speaking of the fresh spring air sinking through Sugar Cube Corner as lines of cookies, cakes, pies, and treats were removed from the oven. Despite his breakfast still sitting satisfactorily in his stomach, Spike’s belly rumbled at the images that Pinkie presented him.
Rarity spoke, telling him about all of her new orders. Her spring line was a hit, and orders were pouring in from across Equestria. As she spoke he could see the vibrant pastels of her fabrics coming undone as she pulled them from their bolts. In his mind he could hear her humming to herself, watched her make the thousands of tiny decisions that she poured over each of her creations.
“Oh, it’s so dreadfully taxing, I must say,” Rarity sighed. Her face went a little sheepish, as though apologizing. “I certainly am glad for the business, mind you, and for the accolades, but it would all go so much better if I had a little help around the shop…”
Her words were pointed, and they were not lost on Spike. Slowly he stood, and without looking to any of the three he made his way to the bed. Once there, he leaned across his own forearms once again, assuming “the position”, the same one he had lingered in for almost two weeks, staring into Twilight’s unopened eyes, watching the blanket raise and fall on her tiny breaths.
Pinkie opened her mouth, her expression brightening and words forming on her lips. It all fell away as Spike lifted his hand, drawing strands of Twilight’s hair out of her face, settling them back behind her ear once more.
Spike knew what was coming next. It was the same thing that Celestia had done yesterday, and that had been hard enough. It was the same thing that Twilight’s parents had done, that Cadence and Shining Armor had done, that her other friends and the doctors and the staff had all done.
They had all tried to get him to leave her, to trick him into…
Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Spike jumped a little, his startle evident to all in the room. “Trick him”? Where had that come from? He berated himself inside his own head. They weren’t trying to trick him! They were worried about him! These are his friends, they love him, care about him!
Thoughts like those, angry ones, were only getting stronger in his mind as his body grew weaker.
That he knew.
“I… I had breakfast,” he said, repeating his earlier refrain, attempting to stem the incoming tide of very reasonable, largely accurate, and horribly truthful comments that he knew were now coming.
“We’re glad you’re eatin’ proper now, Spike,” Applejack said, nodding to him slowly. “But ya can’t keep goin’ on the way that you’re goin’ on…”
“You gotta get out more Spikey! Your scales are all fading and you’re all deflated like a balloon that’s been sitting on the floor after a party that was like three days ago and nobody’s bothered to pick it up!” Pinkie cried, leaping forward, brushing against him. To his surprise she laid her head on his, and then pulled him back towards her, running her hooves across his scales, watching them flex and bend with startling ease.
It tickled him. Pinkie was tickling him, and even though he began to giggle, he didn’t want to.
“Well now, Spike, that’s all we’ve wanted to hear from you,” Rarity said, putting her hoof over her mouth to hide her smile at the sight. “You’ve been so, well… not yourself. Can you blame us for worrying over you, darling? I… we know that Twilight is so very dear to you, but that’s no reason to allow yourself to waste away.”
“Now, listen to Rarity, Spike,” added Applejack. “There’s plenty o’ sense in what she’s sayin’. There’s no point in you stayin’ here with her all this time.”
Pinkie continued to tickle him, and as the words of the other mares fell over him he felt something shift within, something feral. He felt trapped. Caged. It… it was bad enough when Twilight’s parents, her teachers and peers, admonished him, but her friends? His friends?
They should be the ones to see, the ones who knew!
Before he even knew what he had done, Spike had knocked Pinkie’s hooves away. He spun out of her forelegs, a snarl erupting from him as he scrambled back to his feet.
“Yeah, okay, fine! Ya know what? Maybe if her friends and her family would come around more often I wouldn’t have to stay here with her!” he growled, his eyes flashing, his fists balling.
“Maybe if somepony else showed that they cared about Twilight, I wouldn’t have to be here!” he called, his voice rumbling. “Maybe if she had some friends who cared about her more than themselves, then I could sleep, heh? Maybe? Maybe!?
He spun around once, that unhappy part of him rising up again, the one that had only been growing stronger as his body grew weaker. His teeth ground against themselves, and his face creased. He lifted his eyes to deliver the coup de grace.
“But no, who’s Twilight’s only real friend? Who’s been the one who has always been right beside Twili… Twi…”
His words died on his lips, the angry part of him shuddering to a halt, dropping away like it had been sent careening off a metaphorical cliff.
His hands lifted to his mouth, covering it as the realization of what he had just done thudded across him. He looked to each of the ponies, to the hanging faces of Applejack and Rarity, their eyes cast down to the floor of the hospital room.
He turned slowly, his hands still covering his mouth, to face Pinkie. Her hoof was still held up to him, still holding the position it had been in when she’d been tickling him, her usual buoyant spirit believing that she’d been making him happy.
But now her face was scrunched up, her jaw quivering, and the great blue pools of her eyes were filling with tears.
“Pinkie,” Spike breathed. “Pinkie, I’m sorry.”
He stepped forward, pushed his muzzle against her shoulder, and lifted his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m sorry.”
Her foreleg fell across him, and he embraced his friend.
He held her for what he felt was the right amount of time, that imperceptible duration of what it took to make amends, and then slowly moved to Applejack.
“I’m sorry,” he told her, lifting the words to her ears. “I’m sorry.”
She too forgave him with her hug, and he pressed himself closer to her, little strands of her blonde mane buffeting in his breath.
Rarity lifted her foreleg, and he fell into the reaches of her white coat easily, his arms coming up beneath her.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, wiping the tears from his face with the back of one of his outstretched arms. “I’m so sorry.”
He began to lift from her, but he felt her tug on him, not yet ready to see him leave. He realized that she wasn’t done forgiving him yet, or perhaps something more. Perhaps she was… yes, she was trying to drag the tiredness out of him.
He wiped his head to her coat.
“Oh, my poor Spikey-Wikey,” she whispered, resting her head atop his.
It had been unfair. He knew it had been unfair, but he’d said the words anyway. He’d yelled at his friends. Worse yet, he’d known it was a lie, just as they had known. Even if Celestia and Luna, her parents, and her family had been in here every hour of every day, he’d still have been here. Even then he would not have left.
They had come. They’d come every week. They’d come when they could. They had lives outside of this hospital. They had families and jobs. That had surprised him when he’d come to Ponyville, that mares as young as these had so many responsibilities. All he’d ever known was the academic world, of fillies Twilight’s age being in school.
Now that he knew of the world outside Canterlot, he had done his best to help Twilight see all of the good things it had offered her… the things that these friends had brought into her life.
It was something that she should still be enjoying. He only wanted to see her happy, to see that wonderful twist of joy in her eyes.
Why had that needed to change? Why couldn’t she just have been able to enjoy that for a little while longer? Why had she needed to change? Why?
Why did she have to become a princess?
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that she had all of these new responsibilities. It wasn’t fair that she, a young mare, had all of these new concerns. It wasn’t fair that she got to spend less time with these friends… with him. It was all because she became a princess! If she hadn’t been a princess, she wouldn’t be in that bed, her mind locked away! If she hadn’t become a bucking princess, then he…
… then he could still see her eyes.
It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t bucking fair!
Snap out of it! he yelled at himself, making himself startle in Rarity’s forelegs. Knock it off!
Spike took deep breaths, let himself sit in the comfort of Rarity’s embrace… took her offer to lift some of the pain out of him with her touch.
After a week, five days, fifteen hours, and so many minutes, he finally admitted to himself what was happening. He gulped, his throat bouncing around against Rarity’s chest.
He was losing himself. He was fading. He was becoming less. He was angry, and he felt himself growing irritable. He was becoming hard, aggressive. He was even using swear words. Him! Spike!
Yes, he was losing himself… the good part of him, Twilight’s “great little guy” was fading as the days went by, as he sat here in this tomb, and no amount of cold water and rainbows would excuse that if she awoke to find a hollowed-out effigy at her bedside, a monster instead of her little assistant.
Monster. The word thudded through him, one he’d been fighting since that terrible birthday, a word he’d developed a whole new code of life to deal with.
He was in danger of succumbing to the hands of a monster he’d built over the last two weeks.
Twilight may be the one in the hospital bed, but he was the one who was dying.
He was dying without her.
There was movement around him, and he felt Applejack and Pinkie come closer to their unicorn friend. At once Rarity’s solitary embrace became a group hug, and the dearly familiar scent and feel of all three mares drew close to him.
Not long later, Spike escorted his friends to the train station.
Train station. That term jumped at him as he rode along on Applejack’s back, the strong muscles of the earth pony flexing beneath him. They had to ride the train to get here every time they came, had to buy tickets… they’d had to leave duties behind, make time. He folded his arms across his stomach, the feeling that he’d wronged them once more falling through him.
Noticing his discomfort, Pinkie leapt up, snatching him from Applejack’s back, leaping enthusiastically with him across the short platform of the station.
“Are you really, really, really sure you don’t wanna come back with us, Spikey, even if just for a little bit? Please? Oh, please, oh, please, oh please!” she said, ending with her face pressed to his. “Everypony sure would be glad to see ya again! It’s just not the same without you and Twilight around!”
No. No it wasn’t. That he could agree with. That was why he had made his choice. If there had been any doubt before, he knew now. He knew he had to find out what the Pillar of the Sun was, what this Zenith thing was.
He had to find that information, give it to the doctors. Only then could he be home, with Twilight. Only then could everything be all right.
Applejack rustled his frills, and he gave the two earth ponies their well-deserved hugs as they went inside the station to await the train. They smiled back at him, and then gave a hidden nod to the last of their party.
To his surprise, he felt the soft, velvety touch of Rarity’s magic drift across him. To Spike, Rarity’s magic had always felt so different than Twilight’s. Rarity’s was like being laid across satin sheets, like being allowed to drift upon silk…
… it was wonderful, and spoke to parts of him that did not know how to answer, but it wasn’t Twilight’s. Twilight’s magic was his warm, familiar blanket in his little bed back in the cold, dark, abandoned living quarters of the library.
Rarity’s magic was wonderful, but it wasn’t Twilight’s.
It just wasn’t Twilight’s.
“Spikey-Wikey?” she asked, placing him gently in her forelegs. “I know that Pinkie and Applejack just asked you this, but… but if I were to offer to let you stay with me, in my boutique, would that be satisfactory inducement towards bringing you back to Ponyville, even if just for a two, perhaps three nights?”
He looked up to her, blinking. To… wow, to stay with her?
Spike realized something, and his mind flew back over the last two hours, retracing his steps. As it did a fact revealed itself, and once more he startled at the realization.
In his mind’s eye, he saw her waiting for him at the waiting room, her trotting out after him as he had pelted past. He saw her hugging him, cradling him, laying her head to his. From the moment she’d entered the hospital room, the pony who he felt such tugs on his heart for, who he had crushed over from the second he’d laid eyes upon, had been showering him with affection.
She’d given him hugs, embraces. She’d literally settled him close to her body… her delicate perfumes and beautiful scents had fallen over him.
He hadn’t even noticed. He was so far gone, he realized, that he hadn’t even noticed the way so many of his little dreams had come true.
He hadn’t even noticed.
He was that far gone.
“I’d most certainly love to have you stay with me,” she continued, not noticing the revelation that was filling his eyes. “You could stay in Sweetie’s bedroom, as she’s off… at…”
She felt something touch to her hoof, and she looked down to find that Spike had lifted it, was cupping it with his hands. He smiled up to her, stroking her hoof, the goofy love-struck smile falling over him that she so adored to find there.
“Thank… thank you so much, for the offer,” he said, letting her hoof sit in his hands. “B-but I can’t… I, well, there’s stuff I have to do here. There’s this weird thing called the Pillar of the Sun and the Zenith that I have to look up, to help Twi. I hafta do what I can, ya know? I’ll tell ya the whole story later.”
Her face fell down a shade.
“Thanks, though, Rarity, it means a whole bunch to me,” he said with a sigh. “Well, you know why.”
“You make it most easy, Spike. You are dear to me, you know,” she added, her face brightening. A thought went through Rarity, one that had only flit there before, but one that now called out to her.
“Spike,” she said, her tone shifting. “Twilight once told me that you used to sleep with her, right in her own bed, when you were just a small whelp, a… fingerling, I believe she said?”
“Heh,” Spike laughed, blushing. “Heh, yeah, back when I came to live with her, after I was in the nursery and all. We couldn’t afford a crib. It’s kinda funny, but I’ve… I’ve never been able to sleep real good without her nearby. It’s like, ya know, if I woke up from a nightmare or something, as long as I could hear her breathing, I’d be okay. Heh, is that weird?”
Rarity smiled down over him. “No, Spike,” she said, “I don’t find that weird in the slightest.”
She struggled for a moment, fighting to make her awkward proposition.
“Spike,” she said, painting some resolve into her voice. “If it would encourage you to come away with us, for just a few days, I’d…”
She closed her eyes.
“If it would help you sleep, mind you, and recover from your ordeal, then I’d like to offer to have… to have you…”
She opened her eyes to find him looking at the ground, lost in thought. She could quickly guess where his thoughts were going. His lead lifted, and turned towards the distant cityscape, back to the hospital. She watched as he blinked, and then looked back up to her, the boy realizing that he had zoned out.
“I’m sorry, Rarity,” he said, stroking her hoof once more. “You were sayin’?”
“Nothing, Spike,” she said. “Nothing.”
“Oh,” he answered.
Together they stood there, in the street of Canterlot, as unspoken words drifted around them.
“Well,” she said after a long moment of staring down over the whelp, noting how much… less, she could only think, he seemed to be. “I’ll be off, then. Do… do be well, Spike.”
Spike brightened, and to her surprise he lifted her hoof, and planted a tiny kiss there.
“Until we meet again, milady,” he said, that chivalrous part of him rising up through the fog of his distorted new world.
“Oh, Spike!” she said with a giggle, happy to see evidence that the little dragon still possessed those endearing qualities, that they had not faded away. Her eyes flashed, and within a moment she had lowered her head, planting a soft kiss of her own upon his forehead.
She giggled to herself as she turned away, noting that he now lay upon the station platform, a wellspring of tiny hearts erupting from him, his easy sigh filling the air.
Inside the station, Rarity took her place among her friends…
… and Princess Celestia.
“No luck, huh?” Pinkie asked, a sad look falling across her.
“No,” Rarity answered, bowing to the princess before sitting near one of the windows. She watched Spike disappear back through Canterlot’s streets, the dragon slipping away with a tired wobble in his steps.
“No,” she repeated softly. “He said that he had to research something called the Pillar of the Sun, and some other bit… oh, yes, the Zenith. He wouldn’t come away with me.”
Her voice hovered around the station, and they watched as she drew the back of her hoof across her eyes.
“He wouldn’t come away with me, not even after I offered to let him sleep in Sweetie’s little bed in my shop.”
She wiped her eyes once again, rubbed them, and then went still and quiet.
“I thank you for trying,” Celestia said after a contemplative moment, her voice small. “It was the best you could do, I am sure. Thank you for coming to see Twilight, as you always have.”
“Princess?” Applejack asked. “Well, what are they? The stuff that Spike told Rare about? They… they anythin’ we can help w…”
“No!” answered Celestia, her eyes flashing, the word filling the room, catching not only the three friends, but also all of the ponies within the station in its power and suddenness.
Celestia blanched, recovered, and leaned towards them once more. “No, Applejack, I am sorry, but they are nothing you can help with, I fear. It is kind of you to ask, but they are nothing you can help with, I am afraid.”
“Wowie zowie!” said Pinkie, springing forward. “What are they, what are they, what are they?”
Celestia lifted her head. Her mouth came open, but soon shut again. To the surprise and subtle horror of all in the station, she winced.
Princess Celestia, immensely powerful, supposedly immortal… winced.
When she looked back to the three ponies, she had already affected her usual demeanor, calm and serene. She looked to each, and then carried on.
“Do have a wonderful trip back to Ponyville, and do come to see her… them, as soon as you can,” she said, turning towards the door. The stationmaster opened the door for the princess, and the crowd within the station stood in respect. As the two earth pony guards fell in beside her, the alicorn made her way out into the streets of her capital.
“A hypothetical question,” she said aloud.
At once, the two guardsponies brightened, interrupting their already heated intellectual discourse.
“At what point,” she asked, not turning back to face the two guards, simply continuing her pondering as she nodded and smiled at the bowing ponies they passed, “does withholding information become a lie in and of itself?”
Simple Script and Morning Mist, the two guardsponies who were renowned for their inability to shut up, immediately began to discuss their individual opinions. They argued their points up and down, presented arguments and counter-arguments, points and counterpoints.
And then, just for some further intellectual discourse, they switched positions and argued from the alternate point of view.
Celestia kept her ears open to the conversation as they went, but in truth she had heard it all before. She had formed her own opinion of where that thin, terrible line between truth and lies lay hidden. She had found it for herself over her long millennia…
… and, she knew, she was far, far beyond it where Spike, the Zenith, and the Pillars were concerned.
Not long later, a passenger train wound its way down the mountainside.
Three friends sat within, returning to their homes and lives in Happy Valley below, in and around the village of Ponyville.
Two, both earth ponies, leaned against one another, snoozing as the warm sun fell over them through the windows of the coach.
One, a unicorn, did not sleep. Her eyes simply watched the valley below grow steadily closer, blinking when the light caught her as the train slipped from tunnel to tunnel upon the mountainside.
Rarity pondered her offer, the one that she had been about to make Spike when his eyes had dropped away. She hadn’t meant anything by it, nothing unseemly, but it would have been… difficult to explain…
She meant nothing by it, by what she had almost offered him, and had only wanted to see him recover, to see him fit again. If it would have helped him sleep, and he had refused Sweetie’s bed…
Still, it would have been awkward, and ponies probably would have taken it the wrong way, so, best that it hadn’t happened.
Rarity sighed, banishing the image of cuddling the dragon close to her as they lay upon her large, soft bed from her mind. He was still a child, and ponies would have thought ill of her offer to share her bed. They would have taken it wrong, so… that was that.
She still desperately, desperately, desperately wished to see him get better, though.
She lifted her hoof, pressing the part of it he had kissed to her face.
Heal her, Spike. Bring Twilight back to us, she thought, nuzzling her face to the back of her hoof. Just do be sure not to lose that shining part of yourself as you do.
She lifted her head, and a part of her could not help but feel that, for Spike, things would get far worse before they got better.
As she did the train fell into another tunnel, a deep one that swallowed up the cars, stealing the light and hiding it from her as troubled thoughts kept her company in the silent coach.
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I forget. What is this story about again?
sorry.
3057829
I take it that you have a concern about the narrative not moving along?
Dang... Well, Spike has a purpose now, the seeds of the quest has been planted. He's also recognized what all that pining after Twilight has done to him, and he doesn't like it. Good for him!
Celestia is obviously, to me anyways, withholding her knowledge of the Pillar and the Zenith for some reason, and beating herself up for having to do so. She also knows Spike is about to leave on his quest. I hope her manipulations don't come back and bite her right in the cutie mark.
3057832
It is slowly paced so far. Or is it that it's Shandified?
In that the writing follows the narratives present in the landscape of the story in a way that isn't necessarily linear.
EDIT: Hmm, maybe not that much.
where Spike, the Zenith, and the Pillars were concerned.
Pillars
Pillars
More then one of these alicorn traps? Maybe even for non-alicorn?
3057832 No, it's not that.
I just can't remember what this story is about.
I'll just reread the past chapters.
I don't mind.
Celestia knows more than one could expect...
Something about that thing is a painful thing for her to recall... But why?
Keep it going, this is getting goooood.
~Skeeter The Lurker
Great chapter.
Well, one reason is that you're throwing in apparently-irrelevant asides featuring other people's OCs
Spike's dragon instincts acting up, with Twilight as his hoard?
Cats? I like 'em already. Huh. That was, strange?
So, artifact fanatic? Sounds potentially quite useful.
Go Joe!
Youch, this visit could be going better. Then again, it might be just what Spike needed if it brought him back to himself.
Woah, Rarity!
3057959 Good catch about the plural.
3057959 glad to see im not the only one to figure that out, holy smokes there are more than one
Descendant great chapter, i wonder what is chasing after that "Cap’n" it could be a past lover, a tragic fate, a loan shark or even if one could say, a pillar perhaps? loving that character if we take each character that is being introduced in the start of some chapters, is it safe to assume that they are going to be partners of Spike? temporary acquaintances of him? rivals?
keep being awesome Descendant
P.S. i bet five bits that Cap’n only took some toilet paper and maybe some food and water too
3058307 I'm surprised I noticed it I'm normaly a lot more oblivious.
I need to take an adamantium sledgehammer to that Pillar for making all my ponies hurt so much.
I;m a human, so it can't even touch me! Ha! *beats the pillar relentlessly for 10 trillion eons*
I must slow clap. Cole had told me a bit about this story, she said it was good and well, but reading it first hand... Well I'm flabbergasted. I had made predictions, hypothesis and even a few theories as to what will happen in the next chapter, or the one after, and at each turn I had been proven wrong. I am sucked in you have my attention and I doubt you'll lose it anytime soon. The characterization of Spike is deep, his feelings laid bare but subtly shown, his devotion, his borderline obsessive actions. Breathtaking. The flow, scenery, and characters are excellent! There is much to this story and I'm glad to see the reader has barely been shown any of it.
Typically when I read into a story I like, I try to put myself into the shoes of the protagonist as completely as possible, I make myself feel what they feel, think what they think, and so on and so forth. It solidifies my immersion and helps me remember the story well afterwards.
After reading this last few chapters I kinda regret having that style of reading. I feel emotionally and even -physically- exhausted.
Not that that means this is a bad story. It's not. Damn awesome, keep it up.
Woo, pirate ponies! Please tell us we'll be seeing more of Cap'n.
Also, sad Spike is sad.
Hopefully, an epic quest will be just what he needs to get out of his funk!
Not sure where those cats or the pirates fit in... but at least they were polite. And it's good to see that the others are still visiting.
3057959 I reckon he needs to find The Pillar of the Moon.
You know, once in a while I stumble upon a story which actually makes me rethink my own approach to writing, this one is definetly one of them.
Damn you, now I need to actually put some effort into it!
3058222
The story synopsis mentions Spike "parlaying with air pirates" so I'd venture that they are relevant to the story. The inclusion of Vimbert was too blunt for my tastes though, broke my immersion.
It seems things are picking up and Spike is going to start is journey here in soon. Looking forward to it. The story has been great so far. It can only get better from here.
3059873
I'm pretty sure that each character that's introduced (The griffon hen, the sea.. Thing, and the pirates), are ones Spike will meet on his epic journey.
3060490 TIS A SEAPONY!!! But just not sure how they fit in... yet.
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DAMMIT TD, WHY MUST YOU MAKE US WAIT LIKE THIS?!?!?!?!?
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As always, when something breaks Princess Celestia's cool, you know something is badly wrong.
I admit to being a little concerned by the slow pace of the story; not so much as a reader (I'm one of those people who rarely if ever find a story too long), but as a fellow author. I know how easy it is to tire oneself out with a long story, and "Zenith" is shaping up to be a very long story indeed; it would be a shame for your inspiration to keel over dead in the middle of it because you spent so much time on the set-up!
That said, now that Spike has a goal to work towards, something to do, I bet things are going to start moving!
3060557
Excerpt from Chapter 6:
Last time I checked, seaponies don't have hands.
The pirate is an interesting addition, a very bizarre fellow.
Its good that Spike realized that he was loosing himself, that needed to occur. I have to say, I LOVE the scenes with Spike and Rarity, such heavy Sparity hinting!
And then there is Celestia... oh boy.
3060607 ...bugger. A mutated seapony?
3060618
Right now, it seems like a weird mermaid-seapony crossover.
I'm kinda hoping for a sorely neglected screw up, and it's actually meant to say hooves
Powerfully, powerfully emotions in this chapter.
Keep up the good work and stay awesome.
Hmmm... I lost track on how many OC's Spike will meet when he finally sets out on his grand adventure. Good luck little dude!
One day, Spike will be strong, won't he?
But then everything was better because pirates...
One of my most favorite stories is On Pins and Needles. I love your take on Spike's crush and Rarity's reaction.
Oh, a minotaur.
Aaah, Spike... Rarity only want you.
Pillar of Sun, I hate you!
Extra bonus points for handling Rarity and Spike so well. I did wonder why Spike wasn't reacting to her to start with... He really is that far gone.
Celestia, you need to stop milling around and DO something; keeping secrets like this is only bad and you clearly even KNOW it's bad and yet you still cling to it. Heck, you really ought to have dropped more hints or something, even perhaps a few little white lies: Spike in frenectic research mode and split between that and Twilight would probably be better than Spike collapsing into depression (and it started to strike me that he really is suffering from that) as he is inside his own maudlin thoughts. (One sort of gathers that being the whole point of the fic of course, but really, Princess C, you could do with addressing that point sooner and not later...)
Hey, the Mah'qua! I should've expected them to play some role in a pirate story. The pirates themselves are awesome so far, too. Cap'n is hilarious, I can't wait to see more of him. And they even have a Minotaur on the crew! Those guys are tragically underused in fic, from what I've seen, so I'm always glad when they actually do show up.
The rest of the chapter was typically depressing, but at least Spike is aware, now, that what he's doing is counter-productive. Maybe that will help him start to help himself a little bit. Glad to see that Call is willing to help out, too.
This story. I might have said it before, but this is by far the best thig I have ever read, which includes the close to/over two thousand published books I've read. Have you ever though of a career as an author? This story is just so emotionally heart-wrenching, especially as I find myself in a somewhat similar situation to Spike (though it's impossible to be identical :P). You capture the characters so brilliantly, I cannot express how great it is. You good sir, are a magnificent writer. This piece of literature, for it has practically moved beyond the realm of mere fan art, is just immensely amazing. I have never felt anything (save for one thing) as strong as the emotions I had after finishing the latest two chapters. You are spectacular and let no one tell you otherwise.
I have to admit, I completely fell out of immersion at the start of this chapter. One moment, Twilight was getting the life torn from her body, the next, pirates!! But apart from that, love the story. Eagerly awaiting chapter 9!!
Oh my goodness.
This chapter was brilliant.
I noticed you hinting at Spike getting more and more agitated for a couple chapters now, and I initially didn't know what to make of it - then this revelation of his hit me like a truck. It was delivered perfectly through the character interaction with Pinkie, Applejack, and Rarity - you wrote them all so well. Heartbroken Pinkie was executed perfectly.
The fact that Spike is slowly beginning to snap because Twilight is gone just makes his quest of getting her back all the more dire. It's not just about saving Twilight anymore, it's about saving himself in the process as well. Because, really, who would Spike be without the person that's guided him his whole life? Who would he become if she was gone? This dependency they have for each other makes this story realistic and gripping. This is definitely my favorite chapter so far, and it's got me more hyped than ever. Things are really taking off!
3057832 you shouldn't listen to people complaining about the pace. Each chapter introduces new plot points that will certainly be very important when spike takes his walk. Though I am slightly confused at the anecdotes at the beginning of each chapter. Perhaps these are things the dragon will encounter on his said walk?
Totally digging your The Purple Mare callback. After all, Pirate Twi is awesome Twi
Oh, TD, you meta son of a gun.
Also: thinking about Rarity and Spike.
Normally, this comes up and I'm all like:
dharmacowgirl.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/do-not-want.jpg
But when I saw it here, I was like:
4funz.com/Funny-Pictures/celebrities/img-do-want-3-143
Truly, a testament to your skill as a writer, mastering both interesting content and powerful craft.
You are an inspiration. If you aren't getting paid to write, then something should be done to remedy that situation.
Can't wait for a new chapter!
Vimbert, what are you doing there? At least in The Immortal Game he was only ever referred to as Unimpressive.
3032224
Sorry that I missed this comment, Brack. The log is getting so long that they are slipping by me! I hope that you'll find the discovery of the pillar's backstory intriguing!
3057878
Yes, Spike dealing with his own disintegration, his "loss of self", is a major theme of the first book. I'm definitely moving Tia in a certain direction, too.
3057952
I actually watched that whole video, and now I wish that Shandification was a thing, because that's how I think!
3057959
Pluralization often implies some interesting things, huh?
3057975
There is a very good reason why this is painful for her, but that would be telling!
3058119
Thanks!
3058222
One of the rules of a narrative is that protagonists have to be introduced in the first third of a story, or they'll never be as powerful to a reader (think Lando Calrissian). I'm introducing characters and situations that will effect the story later on. I know it is "ugly", but I don't have any other choice, I think.
More like he's lost without her, entering a depression from being without her for the first time in his life.
3058304
Do you recall Allspice, DJ? She was in Certain Advantages. I love it when I get to re-use and flesh-out characters!
3058317
We'll definitely be seeing Cap'n, and all of these other characters and situations, that appear at the start of some chapters again.
3058791
It might have more to it than you suspect, Al.
3058924
I hope that I'm able to keep that sense of wonder as the work continues, Bennet!
3059208
That was a great compliment. I look forward to keeping you worn out!
3059437
Oh, yes, I'm not done with Cap'n and his crew yet!
3059873
Yes, I wanted to be sure that I got the rest of the cast in. We'll hear from Flutters and Dash soon enough, as it allows me to show how they are perceiving Spike's little vigil.
3059950
Thank you so much! I consider that quite the compliment!
3076671 Yep, that's part of the reason I was looking forward to seeing Joe so much, I was wondering how what we saw in Certain Advantages might have developed.
3076662 Well looks like im going to have to wait and see if it's a pillar of the moon, stars, love or even just a pillar of books... books? probably not, but maybe a pillar of death... oh the possibilities are endless I must have more.
3060367
Spike has some discoveries to make, and then he'll be on his way. I hope that getting from here to there proves interesting for you and the rest of my readers!
3060557
Wait? Do you want more than one chapter a week? How about Tuesday and Friday?
3060571
Yeah, that's usually a sign that something has gone wrong, isn't it Lurk?
I am burning through my "buffer zone", but I know I have plenty to write about, so I'm not too worried.
3060617
Yeah, I couldn't let it go without getting some Sparity in there!
3060870
Oh, Spike is going to meet a whole slew of them!
I'm glad that you liked all of the emotions!
3061286
I hope that you are enjoying my style, as I've always preferred character-driven rather than action-driven works. Thanks for reading!
3061603
I'd like to think that he's strong now... but is it the right type of strong for what he needs to do?
3061626
I thought very long and very hard about how to portray Spike's relationship to Rarity. I'm glad that you enjoy it.
3076696
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...I think you get the idea...
3061828
Yes, yes! Feed the Pillar your hate!
3061927
I'm glad that you picked up on that aspect of Rarity... I was worried that I had been too subtle.
Tia's... well, in a bad place. She has her reasons. Sorry to be so vague.
3061969
I'm glad that someone remembers the Mah'Qua! Can you believe that story is two years old?
3063359
Far more than just guilt, Merc!
3066250
You hit a lot of proverbial nails on the head, there! The story is about change, both good and bad, and Spike is certainly an example of the latter at the moment!
3063449
Oh, wow! Thank you so much for saying so! That compliment means a whole bunch to me!