The Wanderer of the North

by Alaxsxaq

2. The Alicorn Errant: Part 6. The Dragoness

2. The Alicorn Errant: Part 6. The Dragoness

Alone and in the cold rain, Nikóleva stood before the freshly-wrought headstone of Evergreen. It was humble and sported only an etching of his beloved cutie mark: three logs neatly cut and stacked. The simple trade of a simple stallion.

The funeral was short, yet still filled with kind and sincere sentiment from the many ponies whom Evergreen had met and enriched during his long life. Indeed, most of the attendees were terribly saddened when they learned of his passing. Several fell to their knees in mourning as the coffin was lowered into the ground. They all knew his time had been running out; the stallion lived to be sixty-one years old―few ponies ever did…yet against their rationale, everypony still vainly clung to the hope he’d outlive them all.

The green pony was too modest to ever accept such a wish, but many felt he deserved a long and prosperous life. One who felt this way in particular was a dear friend.

Everypony else having returned home, that friend still remained by the grave of Evergreen. “Why?” she perpetually asked herself, “Why did he have to go?” Tears kept trickling down her cheeks, concealed in the dour rain. Nikóleva had thought for many hours the night before, long after the spirit of Evergreen had left. Why was she given so much time, yet a stallion who toiled for his family and others, often thanklessly, died so young?

Was this her fate? To live an outcast―an exile for ages on end while good ponies crumbled in her wake? Was her longevity a divine punishment, imposed upon the alicorns for past transgressions? The loss of Evergreen stung her far more than any wound ever could; only her parents' deaths compared.

But her parents had neither been old nor dying. Evergreen had been, and there was nothing Nikóleva could have ever done to stave off his fate…he simply decayed before her eyes. That alicorn Maiëlindir perished in flames, unleashing the righteous fury of a warrior protecting all he loved. Evergreen’s death was quiet and inglorious. Peaceful yet ignoble.

He died neither in battle nor a martyr; he merely grew old. It was a grim reminder for Nikóleva. She, as far as she knew, was mortal. But she’d watch many more like Evergreen grow decrepit, while she’d stay young and fit. Life was a precious gift, granted to her from the Most High…yet could she handle retaining it while most had that gift slip away?

Being around others of her kind would alleviate the burden: how could she outlive them? But during her travels, she’d met only one other, who promptly disappeared. Now what had “it” said? There were other alicorns!

Maybe…maybe she’d find answers with them.

Nikóleva knew not where to begin her search for alicorn communities. She’d tried her best to hide her nature from everypony else, and the white mare could only assume others did the same. She’d have to be diligent then.

With this prospect, she vowed to finally find some answers to who she was and what the alicorns were. Where had they gone? Or were they always so rare? She’d know! By God she’d know! Now with clear purpose, Nikóleva raised her head from the ground and wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Goodbye, Evergreen…,” she uttered. She’d always miss him, and the pain of his loss would never quite leave. But cherishing the memories they shared and the kind words he always spoke to her, Nikóleva could emerge a bit stronger and wiser after being broken by his inevitable death.

After a small prayer, the mare gave a smile to the grave and set out back to his home. She’d bid farewell to the family, thanking them for their hospitality and friendship. As a token of appreciation, they invited her to share one last meal with them. Toasts to the departed Evergreen were made, and by the meal’s end, Nikóleva was ready to leave.

For the last time.

The locals were becoming restless and distrustful; she knew it was time to go. Evergreen’s disinherited sister was very resentful and even openly hostile to the alicorn whenever she passed, and Nikóleva realized it was only a matter of time before those tensions might erupt into violent conflict.

Newly supplied and rested, Nikóleva took her first steps along the cobble road when Wintergreen stopped her and spoke to her one final time. She confided to her what Evergreen had told his sister years ago: that he loved “Nikól”, and could never bear to wed somepony else. In her own mind, the alicorn had deprived Evergreen of a chance to have a family and die beside a mare who could give him all he deserved. Nikóleva was not that mare.

“Please forgive me…,” the white pony said, tears streaming down her cheeks anew. She turned her face away in shame.

But Wintergreen took her hoof and brought the crestfallen alicorn back to her, “No other mare could have made my Brother as happy as you had. Last night, when he first saw you…that was the most blissful he’d been in years. I thank you, Nikóleva,” The elderly mare then kissed her friend on the cheek, “Good luck. I know you’ve been looking for something; I pray you find it.”

At first surprised, Nikóleva smiled back and embraced the aged pony, “I won’t forget you. Take care, Wintergreen.” No more words were spoken, and the green mare crept back into her home after giving one final wave at the alicorn. Nikóleva waved back and walked into the rain, disappearing forever into the mist just over the hill.

She trotted through the trees and fields for miles until the walls of Poneva came into view. She gave one last poignant look at the city; it would be many years before the mare would return, if she ever returned. She stared at the high fortress and towers adorning the seat of its King, rising majestically over the landscape. It was beautiful, overcast by the dull grey sky and lightly pelted with kind rain.

But the longer the Wintermail stared, the larger the hole in her heart grew. Evergreen had left a great absence, and the sight of Poneva only agitated that empty condition. If she were to continue, the alicorn’s yearning would become too much to bear.

But for all her pain, the pony could not yet turn away. Poneva held too many precious memories. With red eyes and a bittersweet smile she stood on the cobblestone road for what may have been hours, simply…staring off at the city. She remained there until the Wintermail could summon the willpower to look away.

Now facing the long road ahead, she took a few steps forward. She moved a few feet before hesitating.

“Farewell, Evergreen. Your travels may have ended, but I’ve a ways to go yet,” she managed a grin and finally set out for places unknown, again without a clear destination.

But such was what she had become accustomed to. With nothing more to go by except a vague feeling, Wintermail headed southwards, braving the wilds and harsh landscapes that lay between her and those blessed lands of Equestria. Whatever perils impeded her progress were easily swept aside, for few things now frightened the mare, let alone seriously threatened her.

Even the perceived increase in Diamond Dogs and other ruffians did not do much to deter the alicorn. Always deliberate and savvy in her movements, Wintermail could avoid most confrontations. Those foolish enough to engage the white giant soon regretted their decisions.

Fortunately, little troubled her on the passage to the coast. The towns were a bit more paranoid of attackers, but still friendly and hospitable just the same. Wintermail would often be delayed though with the typical fare: oppressive lords, bandits, raiders. She delighted in helping others, but it all became trite. Many even fled at the mere sight of the mare. Brigands had developed legends of the Wintermail who raised her blade and emitted a divine radiance to punish the unworthy.

The villagers told her about these stories many times. Some attributed god-like abilities to her: moving the Sun and Moon or summoning the very powers of the earth. Honestly, where did ponies get such ideas as this?

She’d become used to it all, though. Besides, fending off wicked creatures paid well and she’d often receive special gifts from grateful townsfolk. Still, having been raised a warrior of a race that possessed little more than an ancient pride and honor, Wintermail silently demanded a challenge worthy of an alicorn.

Unrevealed to her, this next town would provide just that.

The settlement wasn’t anything exceptional. A community of typical burghers; freelanders, minor merchants, and craftsponies. Where it exactly was escaped the Wintermail; who legally owned or controlled the town didn’t really much matter to her. After all, a mere peasant ill-concerned the high nobility of Equestria. The least she could do was return the favor.

Walking along the dirt streets, she glanced at various shops, inns, and taverns of honest ponies trying to make a living. Feeling a slight grumbling in her belly, the mare walked into a small tavern. Head hung low to avoid the rafters, she crept through the narrow passages between tables and found an empty spot along the bar counter. Grimy and downtrodden stallions and mares discreetly gawked at the odd stranger.

Wintermail acquired a talent for noticing when other ponies were staring: many often did and it had ceased to bother her…much. Shaking it off, she raised a hoof at the tavernkeeper.

“Excuse me…,” she sheepishly said, noticing the keeper was busy with another client.

He did hear her, and turned his gaze upon the white mare, eye widening once he realized who it was, “I beg your pardon miss; how rude of me. If I may say, you seem a bit familiar. Have we met before?”

Wintermail gave a soft laugh, “Hard to say; I’ve met a lot of ponies. You may call me Wintermail if you like."

“Very well, ‘Wintermail’. What can I get you today? There isn’t much, I’m afraid. Some moldy old bread and stale beer. Nothing’s fresh or particularly tasty, but it’ll keep you fed.”

“Your best meal, please,” she placed a full ten bits on the counter, a rather generous sum of money.

“Oh right away, Mistress!” The Keeper took only about a minute to prepare the meal, tapping his keg and retrieving a full loaf of bread. After preparing the meal, he placed the plate and cup in front of his patron.

Licking her lips, Wintermail grabbed a piece of bread in her magic and took a bite. In truth it was sour, stale, and altogether unpleasant, yet she managed to remain composed and grateful. The Keeper saw straight through her guise.

“Sorry I can’t give you anything better, especially considering how much you paid,” he gave back eight of the coins.

“Keep it,” Wintermail refused, eating some more bread.

“If you insist, Mistress…”

Drinking some of her beer, Wintermail noted that it was in fact of poor quality, “Did you suffer a poor harvest? Summer’s ending soon…I’d hate for you all to go hungry.”

“Not quite. Actually this year’s been bountiful, what with the warm weather. No, it has to do with…,” he began sweating.

“With what?”

“Ironscale,” He said softly, as if trying not to arouse suspicion.

“Who is that?” Wintermail asked, leaning forward and matching his tone.

“A dragon who lives on that mountain right there. See it smoking?” he pointed out the window. Sure enough, one of the mountains was emitting a black cloud of smoke, “Ironscale’s been there longer than anypony can remember, and sometimes comes down to add to its hoard. It roasts those who don’t pay tribute alive! It torched a lot of our fields and…killed some of our townsponies. Champions have been going up there for hundreds of years. Not a one comes back.

“Nopony has any money or produce anymore. Half of the town is deserted, and the other half is barely scraping by. According to the old tales, Ironscale goes to sleep for a century every several hundred years, so we use that time to recover. I probably won’t be around then, but hopefully my children’ll live without having to worry about the dragon.”

“My goodness! That’s awful! Why not simply leave this town? There are so many others.”

The Tavernkeeper sighed, “We can’t simply leave our homes. Besides, if Ironscale runs out of ponies to extort, it’ll just move on. I like to think we’re nobly sacrificing ourselves for the good of other places.”

Wintermail was disgusted, “That’s no way to live; in fear! How much can one dragon do? Banded together I’m sure the lot of your militia can drive it away!” her voice was now loud and disruptive.

But the Keeper was becoming increasingly indignant, “That one dragon can lay waste to a whole countryside. We’d just be swept away by its mighty flame.”

Finished with her meal, Wintermail pushed the dishes back to their owner, “It pains me to see a town suffer so. I think I’ll have a talk with this ‘Ironscale’.”

“What?!” another patron shouted, “You’re going to go into Ironscale’s cave?!” The other ponies in the tavern then all fell silent.

“Nopony that goes into that cave ever comes out,” a gruff stallion muttered.

“Then I think I’ll be the first. I’ve met a few dragons before; they’ve not given me much trouble,” she turned back to the Tavernkeeper, “Thank you for the meal. Now if you all excuse me, I have a dragon to speak to.”

Rising from her spot along the counter, Wintermail swiftly exited the establishment, galloping towards the mountain’s base. The patrons inside just returned to their bleak drinking, not expecting to ever see the tall pony again.

“Arrogant mare, she was. Pretty though,” a stallion said, gulping down his mead.

“Not for long.” A mare said, quite unemotionally. A dozen would-be adventurers and heroes galloped blindly into the dragon’s den. Why should she trouble herself over one more?

----------

The hot sun beaming down on her nape, Wintermail scaled the rocky face of the mountain. It wasn’t exceptionally tall; she had seen far taller ones in her travels. But the path upwards was fraught with narrow ledges and steep drops. She’d been climbing for the better part of a few hours, and the summit was within her grasp. Just a bit further…

True, the alicorn was perfectly capable of flying up to the mountain. That would take a mere fraction of the time ascending on foot would. But it was far too risky; her wings―her heritage were to remain a closely-guarded secret. Besides, the climb built up her strength and character.

The flatter pathways of the mountain had given way to sheer cliffs. Meticulously choosing her next foothold, Wintermail careful planned her movements up the wall. She’d climbed several hundred feet already, and the ground below had become small and distant. Every now and then she’d glance downwards, her stomach getting a sinking sensation when she did so. Was she afraid of heights? She wasn’t sure; if she did fall she could just gently fly back up. But still a primal part of her mind was terrified.

It really was…a long way down… The slightest misstep would be the last for another, more earthbound individual.

Placing her forehoof on a higher rock, she mustered all the strength in that limb to pull her heavy frame up the cliff. Blessed with a strong physique, Wintermail was nonetheless burdened with the weight of her saddlebags and weapons. They were all exceptionally secured, but that did not change how cumbersome they were. A few times earlier her hind limbs slipped, and she was left to dangle by her two forelegs, the weight of her possessions almost working against her; the mare could feel her shoulders being pulled down, almost like her bones would pop from their sockets.

But good old-fashioned determination enabled the alicorn to regain her footing and press upward. Again raising a hoof, she placed it atop a rock and prepared to use it as leverage. But unfortunately, the rock was poorly nestled in the cliff, and as she let a great part of her weight depend on that stone, it began to wobble.

Her folly would be known when she raised her other forehoof for a higher rock, the shaking stone she entrusted showing just how poor her judgment had been. It slipped out of the cliff face and plummeted hundreds of feet down, quite nearly fracturing the Wintermail’s leg in the process.

Taken by surprise and without holds for her forehooves, the mare began to fall back. She feared for her life for a few moments before remembering something rather helpful: her wings. Unfurling the great white appendages, she flapped frantically and managed to cling back to the wall. Heart pounding, she folded the wings back against her body, thankful she’d been born with them. After some heavy breaths Wintermail resumed her climb, ever mindful for a loose stone.

“Damned mountain.”

Finally, after much arduous climbing, the mare spotted the lip of a ledge she could rest upon. Excited and feeling renewed, her ascent became faster and in no time at all she reached the top of the cliff. Placing her hoof on the flat rock, she felt around for a couple seconds to ensure the terrain was stable and large enough to support her. Satisfied with the results, the alicorn put her other forehoof on the ledge and pulled herself up, kicking with her hind legs for an added boost.

Heaving herself over the edge, the mare swung her back section forward and stood up, dusting off her pristine white coat. Panting, she looked on in relief at the black smoke emanating from the large dark hole that lay before her. “At last!” She sighed, quite ready to repay the dragon for all the purported damages it had caused.

Galloping closer to the cave, she slowed her pace as the ominous air of the mountain made its way into her head. Taking a deep breath, she kept her sword within reach and wiped the sweat from her brow.

“Courage, Nikóleva,” she told herself, trying not to become intimidated. This was not an easy task, for the cavern’s entrance echoed with the loud breaths of a monstrous beast. Wafting her snout to avoid the carboniferous fumes that filled the cave, she crept ever closer to the source of the noise and smoke.

The cavern was dark, the Wintermail’s eyes still used to the sunlight outside. As her vision started to adjust, she saw exactly what lay on the ground along the tunnel’s path. Bones, some white, some charcoal-black, littered the floor. Many skeletons were still clad in steel armor, with their useless weapons spread along the ground. Some even had their own arms used against them.

The bones belonged to ponies, but disturbingly quite a few held a special secret. Wintermail leaned down to inspect one in particular which was adorned with golden armor…almost like…that one skeleton she recalled from that city all those years ago.

It had been a large pony, maybe one as tall as her father. A horn poked through its tarnished helmet, and the cobweb-infested limbs on its back rested against the wall. Its jaw hung open in agony, probably because its two hind limbs had been shattered and maybe even ripped from its body. Whoever this pony had been in life, it was clear to Wintermail this alicorn warrior had suffered greatly in its gruesome death.

Another alicorn found its eternal resting place a few feet away, its body contorted in a number of uncomfortable positions. Its limbs bent every way except the right one, and its head had been…cracked from its neck. A third alicorn skeleton was half blackened, half ash; burned alive, the poor soul.

A fourth was somehow severed in two, its halves laying several feet from each other. A fifth, a sixth…this cave was a graveyard for dozens of ponies who tried to slay the dragon and failed. And a good number of them were alicorns!

Creeping through the boneyard, Wintermail nervously looked around and tried not to grow disheartened. Unfortunately, the mare did not notice a ribcage on the ground before she stepped on it. The flat bones all splintered and cracked in the wake of her strong hoof, and the noise caused a terrible stir.

Frozen and terrified, Wintermail finally shifted her attention to the gigantic dark mass that dominated the cave chamber. The creature uncurled itself and stood on its four massive tree-like legs before giving a vast yawn. Opening its giant maw, the creature revealed hundreds of sharp teeth. Closing its mouth, the monster flicked its tongue and stretched out its legs. Erecting its long snaking neck the beast narrowed its gaze on the white alicorn who dared to disturb its rest.

Glaring with dark green eyes and growling at the intruder, the dragon stood on its two back legs and breathed in for what seemed like a full minute. Then it uttered a mighty bellow that might have ruptured the eardrums of Wintermail had she not covered her ears.

When it was out of breath, the dragon swung its tail to surround the alicorn in a circle where the it could deal with the mare at its own discretion. Trembling, the mare saw the full glory of the indigo reptile. Behind it rested a glittering mountain of gold and jewels and other treasures, collected over the monster’s incredibly long existence.

Towering perhaps a hundred feet above the tiny pony, the dragon bared its teeth and…begun to laugh?

“How rude of you to disturb my slumber,” it said, with a booming voice that sounded almost female, “I take it you’re another prospective ‘dragon slayer’?” the dragon rolled its eyes in annoyance.

“I do not wish to slay you…I…came to ask if you’d…stop raiding the good ponies down there,” Wintermail said, jittering as her bravery started to fail.

The beast let out a raucous guffaw, “Hahaha! Such naïveté! In all my years, I’ve never had anypony actually ask me to stop! They just simply run up and try to cut me down,” The dragon curled its slithering neck down to face the alicorn, “I almost feel sorry for the impudent little things.”

Wintermail gulped loudly, but otherwise said nothing.

“The answer is ‘No’. I rather like my hoard, and look forward to expanding it. In fact…I think I’ll peruse the countryside for a few trinkets. But first, I need another trophy,” the beast’s smile curled to a devious grin.

“Y…You’re the largest dragon I’ve ever met…” Wintermail replied, now sweating beads.

“You weren’t expecting such a magnificent specimen, were you? Hehe yes those petty things are the Lesser Dragons. I however am a Greater Dragon, or Qhumvraoli as we called ourselves once. We are Gods among our weaker kin, not unlike you Alicorns are to your Tulicëai.”

“’Alicorn’? I’m afraid―“

“White one, I’ve encountered and fought enough of the ‘Triple-Kin’ to know one when I see it.”

“You know about my kind!?” Wintermail shouted, forgetting the mortal danger she’d gotten herself into. Her excitement evaporated whatever fears she held.

“Know about them? I remember when they first wandered to this country ages ago. Every wide-eyed and pompous champion among them thought they could overpower the Great Blue Dragon. I’m indigo actually, but I digress.”

“Did you kill my people? I see their remains in your cave.”

“Those were ponies foolish enough to challenge me. The Alicorns were belched from the sea and faded away…not unlike my kind,” the dragon’s arrogance started to diminish, a solemn feeling taking it over, “You and I, Mare, we’re relics of a time long passed and forgotten. My parents warred against the precursors to your kin, and I warred against the Alicorns of old. The Greater Dragons waned and shrank in number, but I remained to only grow stronger and richer.

“My race is far older than mere Alicorns, those so-called ‘Masters of the World’!” the dragon cried, visibly growing angry.

But Wintermail was not deterred, too fixated on learning about her heritage, “I know very little about the Alicorns! Tell me more!”

“Proud things!” the dragon then lashed out at the mare, who narrowly avoided being devoured by a hulking beast, “The Great Dragons ruled for thousands of ages! Why submit to small and impermanent ponies!? Hahaha! Some of us lived for over a hundred-thousand years, when the World was younger and less tame. I’ve a legacy of five millennia. What is the Alicorn’s legacy? You?”

Realizing the dragon was finished toying with her, Wintermail readied herself for battle, “I’m simply a humble traveler.”

“Soon to be dead. I’ve seen your type wander in here every few centuries, eager to prove themselves. None succeed; only manage to become a little…well done,” The dragon grinned, moving its head over to a pile of charred bones, “I’d offer you a chance to withdraw, but I’ve a reputation to uphold. Besides, a Dragon’s code of honor doesn’t allow a duel to end in a tie.”

Drawing her sword, Wintermail took a stance and stared the mighty beast down, “I’ve made my choice, dragon.”

“’Dragon’? I am Ironscale the Dragoness! Queen of Drakes and Wyrms! The Eldest of all scaly beasts! Dhimjoriq I am known as in the ancient tongue of the Greater Dragons. Alicorn, your fate shall be amongst your dead kin, your rotting corpse gnawed at by creeping things. Countless others have coveted my throne and riches, but none other than God itself can remove me!” the Dragoness then raised her head and bellowed louder than before.

Emerald-green flames shot from her mouth, charring the cavern walls black. Wintermail jumped and dove out of the way as the monster bathed the chamber in a fiery baptism of infernal fury. Now fighting for her survival, the mare took the greatest care to pay attention to her surroundings. Every moment the Dragoness tried to squash the alicorn with her clawed feet, or crush her enemy beneath her gigantic slithering tail.

Recalling the one weakness of a dragon, Wintermail tried to find a good opening into the vulnerable underbelly of the beast. But for such a massive creature, the Dragoness proved surprisingly nimble and aware. She took care that her stomach was always hidden and protected behind her powerful legs.

The alicorn had to be quick on her feet, though. Every moment Ironscale tried to grab the puny pony and squeeze the life from her. Not a moment passed that Wintermail was able to remain still. Her heart pumping viciously, the white mare could not become tired, for it would undoubtedly spell her end.

But luckily, the monster did have something Wintermail could exploit: its claws. Every time she slammed her talons onto the ground hoping to rake in the pony, Ironscale’s nails would dig into the floor and remain stuck for a fraction of a second. After a few close calls of being snatched up, Wintermail picked up the rhythm and managed to slip behind the Dragoness’ defenses.

Starring straight up at the beast’s yellow abdomen, Wintermail raised her blade. Knowing she had this one chance and mere seconds to execute the maneuver, she jumped up onto the dragon’s leg and held on for dear life. Having her sword in a magical embrace, the mare began to climb the limb despite the great force Ironscale was employing to shake the alicorn off.

Now at her shoulder, Wintermail looked at the gap between the Dragoness’ scutes. Narrowing her gaze, the alicorn took the blade in her hoof and leaped upwards, ready to stab her steel into the soft tissues of the monster.

A mere foot from the dragon’s belly, she thrust the blade hard into the gap. But when the silver tip touched the dragon’s scale, the sword couldn’t withstand the armor. The blade buckled and bent before shattering into several iron shards. Horrified and distraught, Wintermail could do nothing as she plummeted to the ground, the sword’s hilt still in hoof.

Landing hard on the cold stony floor, the mare looked in disbelief at her fractured weapon, its shards littering the area around her. Almost breaking down into tears, she readied herself to be slain by the Dragoness.

“How…how? The steel of my blade…was the utmost…,” she muttered, completely shocked at what happened to her beloved weapon.

Ironscale stopped its raging and back out from over her prey, “Hahaha! No mortal blade can assail me! I’ve been chewing on the deep jewels of the Earth for thousands of years! Now my scales are as hard as diamonds!” Bellowing in triumph, the Dragoness leaned her neck down and opened her massive jaws.

Now standing up, Wintermail starred right into the gaping throat of her adversary. Now glowing a sickly green, the beast’s mouth was about to expel a fiery torment that would end the mare in one decisive blow.

But then the pony got an idea.

Another sword was girt around her waist, one she never used: her father’s old blade that she kept beside her at all times. Heretofore it provided inspiration and confidence as though the old blue stallion was standing right behind her. But a sword is meant to be used, and she now realized how disrespectful it had been to simply “have” the weapon.

Eónadin was hers now, with every intention that it’d be Nikóleva’s tool of choice.

Almost as if the sword were begging to be drawn, Wintermail felt an urge to pull the weapon from its sheath. Tossing aside the broken hilt of her old sword, the mare used her magic to draw Eónadin and reveal its brilliance to the World once again.

Its blackened steel shone even in the dim light of the cavern, the silver moon and golden sun adorning its hilt flashing as though it were drawing the power of those heavenly bodies. Feeling stronger and a renewed resolve, Wintermail swung it a couple times to get a feel for the blade. Peculiarly, Eónadin did not glow as it had before. Curious, but of little importance right now.

Still in Wintermail’s aura, the blade hung down, ready to be swung at the Dragoness.

Ironscale looked perturbed when her opponent drew her second blade. Her look of arrogance and victory evaporated the moment that ancient sword was revealed.

“Where did you get such a weapon?”

Wintermail said nothing; only narrowed her gaze.

The Dragoness curled her lips into a greedy smile, “Simply beautiful…I want it.”

Wintermail smiled a confident smile. Undoing her cloak’s clasps, she discarded the garment and removed her saddlebags. Then, in one proud show of dominance, she unfurled her large feathery wings and flapped a couple times before lifting off the ground, “Only from my cold dead corpse shall you take it.”

Insulted, Ironscale leaned her head back and let out another mighty roar. Then, to the alicorn’s surprise, she charged forward. Jetting off, Wintermail swooped out of the way of a stream of green fire spraying from the beast’s maw. She flew out of the cave’s entrance and above the ledge just in front. Ironscale followed her out of the cavern and slithered around the mountain.

Perched atop her throne, the Queen of Drakes and Wyrms let out ear-bursting roars and cries to signify exactly who commanded this mountain. Wintermail flew upwards around the monster’s head and swatted her sword at the Dragoness’ spines. Annoyed and right about tired of this interloper, Ironscale clawed at the air hoping to catch the alicorn.

But Wintermail was too quick, and flew down behind the monster’s head. Raising her blade, the mare plunged the dark grey steel between Ironscale’s skull and spine. With immense precision and ease, Eónadin penetrated the scaly armor of the dragon and cut deep into her skin. However long the blade was, though, it could not reach the monster’s spinal cord.

Pulling the sword up, Wintermail swung off the crimson-red blood of the Dragoness and tried to figure out another method. Shaking off the wound as if it were an insect bite, Ironscale nonetheless was surprised and frightened that the attack succeeded in harming her.

“You pierced my hide!” she yelled, now on top of the mountain’s rocky summit. Swinging her tail and claws at the small pony, Ironscale left her side exposed.

“That’s it!” Wintermail said to herself. Working up the courage to carry out her plan, she took deep breaths and aimed her sword straight at the Dragon’s heart.

Without much hesitation, the mare dove straight for Ironscale’s rib cage, hoping her judgment was correct. In a lightning quick display of flight acumen, Wintermail careened right into the gap between the dragon’s ribs and cut every bit of tissue in her path before emerging from the other side.

Having cut a hole straight through Ironscale, the formerly-white alicorn gently landed on the summit, absolutely covered in blood. Violently denying the urge to vomit, Wintermail heaved before the stunned beast.

Cringing at the pain of her insides being sliced through, Ironscale lumbered for a moment, turning to her victorious opponent. Gushing blood from both sides, she began to shake and grow tired.

“W…What did you do to me, Warrior?”

“I missed your heart, but severed a great artery. You will die.” the mare replied solemnly.

But instead of trying to take revenge, the Dragoness just laughed, “The Law of Honor…dictates that I allow you to go free; in my death, you are forgiven. Dragons respect strength, and your slaying of me is the greatest show of it I’ve ever seen. By our customs you’d be our Queen.”

Again Wintermail did not reply.

“Five millennia I’ve endured, and now I finally meet my end in battle…a righteous end if ever there was one!” Ironscale tried to laugh but instead coughed up blood, “But…with me shall go the last of those who saw the glory of Triple-Kin. The Greater Dragons are like you…we’re fading quickly. Soon there shall be none left…just like the Alicorns. Those of my kind that remain are too young to have seen those bygone days.”

Tears pouring down her cheeks, Wintermail dropped the sword and fell to her knees. “Do not weep for me or mine, White Warrior,” Ironscale reassured, showing a gently serenity in defeat, “Our peoples are fossils of ancient times, irrelevant now. By slaying me, you’ve granted me the glory every Great Dragon desires. I am honored…that my opponent was of that noble race from across the Sea.”

“Then I shall…mourn for you as though you were my own.” Wintermail said, still crying and kneeling.

“Please,” The Dragoness smiled and closed her eyes, “But…may I ask you a favor?”

“Of course.”

“As victor, you’ve right to my hoard. But within it is my most precious treasure: an egg. My child has yet to hatch, and without dragon’s fire it won’t…not for a long time. But I ask you: take care of the egg until that day comes. Do what you will with everything else, but protect my child,” her life fading fast, Ironscale’s speech slowed, “Raise it…in the ways…of ponies. My people’s…ways…are violent and cruel… But do not tell…it about its mother… Tell it not what it is…my child will only chase a kind that fought itself to oblivion.”

“I swear…by Lórian’s own name that your egg shall be forever safe.,” The mare answered, holding back a fountain of tears, “And when it hatches, it shall be my own child.”

“Thank…you…” Ironscale uttered, the last words to leave her lips. Now too weak to grip the mountainside, the Dragoness slithered off. Horrified but unable to do anything, the Wintermail witnessed the creature plummet hundreds of feet down, the sound of her back breaking hauntingly audible. Whether she died before her fall or on impact was never made clear, but with Ironscale the Dragoness went the legacy of a race much older than even the tall Blessed Ponies.

----------

“And so the Dragoness laid there, her ravaged body a testament to my savage hoof. I learned a hard lesson that day…how…similar our enemies can be. Yet I kept my promise, and crept back into her cave…and rummaged through her hoard,” Princess Celestia told her story, growing tired after several hours of speaking.

“Within the mound of gold and silver, I found nestled safely within a single small egg, lavender in color with dots of purple speckled about its shell. I took up the egg and cradled it gently…I put it up to my ear to see if I could hear the baby inside. Its heartbeat was soothing… I think right then any living thing would have delighted me.

“I wrapped it in my aura and gathered my things, placing the egg within my bag. Twilight, Dragon eggs are nigh-impenetrable, so I was not worried about it breaking. Still, I remained ever mindful while it rested in that bag. I was so conscious of it that I forwent donning my cloak, and instead flew down the mountain. I’m sure nopony saw me, but I did not care if they had.”

Twilight Sparkle said nothing, merely writing the words of the Princess. The Solar Monarch’s face became full of pain and gravitas, “I came to a stream where I thought to wash myself off. The blood…oh Lord above the blood…I washed for hours…but it would not leave my fur…my coat was stained. By nightfall I did clean it from my hair…but…but I fear the sanguine marks of my sin shall forever blight my very bones…”

Celestia brought her hooves up to her face. “When the last of the blood had trickled down the river’s flow, I departed again… That egg in tow.”

Princess Celestia did not speak for a while, instead seemingly lost in her own thoughts. Twilight sat without anything to write down, and for the first time all night she lifted her gaze and looked upon the face of her dear mentor. Her lip quivering and eyes red, the white alicorn’s regal façade had faded all but entirely, revealing a mare whose past sometimes became too much to bear.

Ears drooping, Twilight didn’t know what to say. Perhaps it was best to not say anything, and let Celestia deal with her own demons. But a minor detail in the story did catch her interest. Maybe a change of subject might lighten the room’s mood.

“Princess…,” the purple winged unicorn began, “What became of that egg you found?”

“I…found a good home for it; for the dragon baby inside.”

“Wait…,” Twilight paused, a certain realization dawning on her, “You don’t mean…Spike?”

The tall alicorn simply nodded.

“How…could you, Princess? The Mother? You killed his mother…and you never told him…,” Twilight uttered, disturbed to say the least.

“It's best for him that he didn't know…best for everypony...,” Celestia spoke, her eyes too filled with shame to look at Twilight.

“I…I can’t believe it―I refuse to believe it!”

“I speak only the truth.”

“No Princess…somepony as wise and just as yourself…you slew his mother…,” The lavender pony was stepping back, quite unsure what to think.

“Twilight, listen to me―“

“How could you?! Who even are you?…Princess I thought…”

“Twi―“

“You monster!” Twilight spat, taking a defiant stance.

“Silence!!” Celestia’s anger exploded, her eyes glowing and her voice like ten others speaking at once. Her fiery wrath incurred, she stood over the small lavender pony and spread out her wings, appearing like a force of nature. The Princess’ commanding presence almost drew the very power of the Sun itself. “Impudent Twilight Sparkle!! You and your cushioned…privileged life could never understand the way of the World then! What would you have had me do?! Simply allow those townsponies to suffer?? I had no choice but to slay the dragon! How dare you self-righteously talk down to me! Were it not for your comfortable ivory towers the World would eat you alive!”

Glaring at her student, the mighty alicorn stood over a cowering purple filly who had run out of space to back up into. Against a wall, Twilight was shaking in fear, uncertain what would happen next. Celestia though caught her image in the mirror along the wall. What she saw staring back at her was a very angry and frightening creature; scowling eyes filled with malevolent magic and bared teeth gnashing against one another: a Monster.

Filled with remorse, Celestia threw herself over Twilight, hugging the pony tightly, “I…I’m…I’m so sorry… That was somepony…else speaking….somepony with a much shorter temper,” Twilight could only whimper, still terrified and shocked, “The greatest deceit I’ve ever committed…was making everypony think I’m perfect… Are you ok? Are you hurt? Oh please forgive me…”

Assured that she was no longer in any harm, Twilight reciprocated the hug, sling her forehooves around the Princess’ neck, “I’m fine… We all let our emotions get the better of us sometimes. Why one time I got so angry I swear I caught on fire!” The two shared a laugh, Celestia’s eyes still a bit wet with tears.

After a few tender moments, Celestia released Twilight, “You must be tired…go off and get some sleep; it’s late. We’ll continue tomorrow…if you’re still interested, Twilight.”

The winged unicorn closed her book and smiled at her mentor. “Of course, Princess!” Yawning, the lavender mare turned to the door. Opening it with magic, the pony trotted out and shut the door, “Good night, Princess!” she said just as the wooden door closed.

“Good night, Twilight Sparkle…,” standing up and crawling into her own bed, the alicorn Princess laid her head down on the soft pillow. Closing her eyes, the mare silently kicked herself for such a callous display. “Losing her temper”? How foalish! Thankfully her full wrath was not realized.

A disgusting amount of times the mare had become unfettered, and a pony of her strength could, and certainly did, cause appreciably physical damage. A few times she’d become violent, mostly fueled by her own insecurities. “A pathetic individual,” she sighed, rubbing her tired face with a hoof. Celestia was supposed to be better than all this. Not to mention this was the second night of trying to dictate her past and both instances she proved incapable of simply finishing the story as any sensible pony would be expected to do.

Maybe rest would help the mare to calm her frayed nerves. Yes…sleep. Utilizing a certain spell, Celestia blew out all the candles and turned off the lights to her bedchamber, and finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

End of "The Alicorn Errant"

Comments

[jaroslav]

I doubt that Twilight would call Celestia a monster. I hope she will apologize next time they meet.

[Private Dangle]

I came so hard while reading this.

[Interloper]

4559122

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[Private Dangle]

4559124 YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[Celestias Paladin]

"Scales are as hard as diamond" true, but even diamond can be shattered by a weapon as crude as a hammer.

Honestly the only thing I don't like is Celestia apologizing for her outburst and for killing dragoness. Twilight was out of line and really did need to kncoked down a few pegs.

[Alondro]

I’m fine… We all let our emotions get the better of us sometimes. Why one time I got so angry I swear I caught on fire!”

Yes Twilight. One day you will understand that you did burn with golden flames in your rage. And you will discover what it implies.

You will know of your true lineage, passed down through countless generations as the blood sought itself out, ever purifying, every strengthening.

For you, Twilight Sparkle... are a Saiyan.

[Shining Dawn]

Oh sweet Celestia! The EMOTIONS!! I just . . . Oh Jeez.
. . .
Beautiful story. Bravo.

[gakposter]

Wait, did she kill the dragon baby?
I must be stupid.

[Flod]

7748775
No. The baby is spike, and he is not dead. :D

[Always Breakfast]

Yeah the outburst at the end was way too much, on both parts. I somehow doubt Twilight would've missed the part where that dragon was an unrepentant mass murderer who'd been holding a whole town hostage for centuries. Celestia I can at least see having that angrier side, but it came out far too abruptly for somepony who's been leading a relatively sheltered nation for a thousand years.

[FinalFan]

8924328
Yes, and from another angle I was expecting something along the lines of "it was literally his mother's dying request".