King of Equestria

by Neroson40

Friends

“What did you say to Relius?” Twilight asked.

“It wasn’t anything important.” Wayvern said. The way he saw it, that was true, he thought it was the most clichéd thing you could say to someone who wanted to kill you and everything you love.

“It looked like you remembered something during the fight,” Rainbow Dash said. “Can you tell us what it was?” Wayvern hesitated. He still had a lot of questions about who he could trust, why the five of Twilight’s best friends cared so much as an iota about him, but he decided it couldn’t hurt.

“The fight brought back a lot of memory. But some of it isn’t my own. Before I was made an official Shadow Reaper I was exposed to Timeblood Addiction. My… friend, Avalanche protected me while I recovered from it.”

“What’s Timeblood?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Timeblood is the recyclable material used to create the soul of a living being. Only a small amount is needed to create a healthy soul, so exposure to too much could kill someone.” Wayvern explained. Rainbow Dash didn’t seem to get it, so he made a note to try to dumb it down for her later. “Anyway during my recovery, I started to get Avalanche’s Memories mixed into my own, and not just his, but anyone who came into physical contact with me. A few months later, Relius, the Shadow King, brainwashed the mind of a dragon and sent him against me and Avalanche. I was able to recover in time to deal the final blow. But Avalanche was fatally wounded. He gave me Hummingbird, my father’s sword, before he died. As his apprentice, Avalanche was very close to my father.”

“Is that everything you forgot?” Twilight asked.

“No. There’s years missing from my life, but there are small things from anyone else’s. like the fact that the dragon had a name. Spike.” Twilight and Rainbow Dash looked at each other with shock. They excused themselves, saying that there was somepony they had to check on.
In the meantime, on his way back to his room, Wayvern found a chamber that was mostlty a stained glass window depicting a young white and light blue Pegasus surrounded by snowflakes. There was a jar in the same room that looked to be very cold, a fact that was confirmed when Wayvern touched it with his hoof.

“This is Snowdrop’s Memorial,” a voice said behind him. He turned around to find Luna looking at him with a warm smile, like she understood something. “She was a friend of mine.”

“Was?”

“A thousand years ago, she invented the snowflake.” Luna said. That cleared that confusion up. “The feat was very impressive. Though the product was underwhelming at the time, the effort was undoubtedly a struggle. That was mostly because, well, she was blind.”

“I’m so sorry,” Wayvern said. “What did it look like?” Luna pulled out a crystal replica of the flake that Snowdrop made. It was asymmetrical and sloppy, but Wayvern found the way light shown through it beautiful nonetheless.

“She understood the beauty in all things better than anyone, even though she could not see it. It’s partly because she died that I became Nightmare Moon that very year.”

“What’s… Nightmare Moon?”

“In short, me being a jealous moron. I wanted to block out the day, and rule Equestria through the night… nopony seemed to see any beauty in my night, only darkness and cold. The only exception was Snowdrop, and the night she died, I outright refused to lower the moon.”
Wayvern had to think a little as to how outright refusing to lower the moon would cause problems, then he realized that the diet of a normal Equestrian consisted of mainly plant life, which needed water and sunlight, the latter of which was unavailable during the night.

“Again, I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be, you understand how it was better than anypony.” Wayvern was confused until he remembered Avalanche. Avalanche died because Wayvern couldn’t do anything to help him.

“You were eavesdropping?” He said. Luna shrugged modestly, meaning she didn’t mean to. “So Snowdrop was like a Teacher to you?”

“Well, she taught me forgiveness, and value in what can’t be seen.” As a tear rolled down Luna’s cheek, Wayvern turned to the jar, starting to remember everything about Snowdrop from how Luna saw it. He knelt before it.

“I wish I could’ve met you, Snowdrop,” he whispered to it. Behind him he heard the clopping of hooves on the tiles at a galloping pace, and he and Luna turned around to see Twilight with a baby Dragon running their way. When she got to them she was panting.

“Wayvern… is this… the dragon?” she said between breaths.
Wayvern looked at the dragon and recognized it from the dream. Now Wayvern remembered that moment as one of Avalanche’s memories… somehow.

“It looks like him, but it can’t be, the dragon that killed my mentor died eleven centuries ago.”

“But… I’m Spike,” The dragon said.

“Then let me check something.” This was the first time that Wayvern used Magic, practically or otherwise. The spell he used checked biological history as visions towards the caster. The memory in the dream came up among others.

“The Spike I remember is this Spike’s Ancestor,” Wayvern said. Wait… my dad got out of that, Wayvern thought to himself. How?

Author's Note:

If you hate this story, explain why calmly so i can improve it, otherwise I swear the end redeems everything else.

Comments

[RC-0117]

seeing as there was no comment on this chapter there is one now