The Wyrd of a Dragon

by Gizogin

The Assistant

The Wyrd of a Dragon
Chapter Three

---

Once Trixie had passed through the great iron doors, Spike pushed them gently closed behind them. "So," he said, casually, "what brings you to my head?"

Trixie didn't answer right away, instead taking a moment to examine her surroundings. That a dragon's mind would appear as a cave wasn't much of a surprise. The walls were clearly made of the same dark rock as the outside, though these had been smoothed and shaped with what must have been a great deal of effort. Regularly spaced tapestries softened the image somewhat, depicting brightly clad figures in triumphant poses. Between them stood suits of armor, and the center of the floor was taken up by plush, blue carpeting. All together, it looked like the entrance to a castle or palace, rather than the cavern it should have been.

For a moment, Trixie wondered at what these decorations could mean, but the words "Power Ponies", emblazoned in bright yellow thread on some of the tapestries, were a pretty big hint. These were posters, of the sort a colt might hang in his bedroom; the difference was that, instead of ink on glossy paper, these used silk. The carpet could, with a bit of imagination, represent a favorite blanket, right down to the worn and faded threads from regular washing. Even the armored stands, though imposing at first, were clearly designed to look impressive and intimidating, with no consideration to their functionality. It was telling, Trixie thought, that Spike had evidently chosen the protection of his own scales and a few pieces of steel over any of the pieces on display.

Trixie decided that Twilight's spell was far too metaphorical for her tastes. All it had to say was, "young, but mature for his age." Unless it's "pretending to be older than he is."

Behind Trixie, Spike cleared his throat. The sound made her jump; she'd almost forgotten he was there. "Oh, um, right," she fumbled, before quickly recovering her natural poise. "Trixie is here to find out why Spike—that is, you—will not wake up."

Spike scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I really hate to say this, but I'm not the Spike you want. The Assistant is more of an answers guy; he might be able to help you." Trixie could all but hear the capital letter.

"Well, then, tell Trixie where to find this 'Assistant,'" Trixie said. After a moment, she added, "Please."

"I can't do that," Spike said, shaking his head. Forestalling Trixie's outburst with an upraised hand, he clarified, "I'm not trying to stop you, but the mind of a dragon is no place for a pony to wander around by herself, least of all you. No, instead, I'll show you where the Assistant is." Under his breath, quiet enough that Trixie had to strain her ears to hear it, he muttered, "Good luck getting anything from him, though."

'Least of all me'? What's that supposed to mean? Trixie held her tongue, allowing Spike to lead her to the doors at the opposite end of the room. They were simpler than the doors leading outside, but Trixie doubted they'd be any less heavy. The entire structure had an air of solidity to it, and Trixie had to wonder what sort of upbringing Spike had had to give him such fortitude. Or is this just part of being a dragon?

As before, all it took to open the way forward was a sharp knock from Spike. Beyond the doors, a long, low hallway stretched off to either side, its rough walls illuminated by flickering, green torchlight. "Come on," Spike said, heading down the left corridor. "Stay close, and don't get lost. These tunnels are full of danger."

"Right."

And so, pony and dragon set off together to find the one Spike had called 'the Assistant.'

---

Trixie had no idea how long they'd been walking. There were no landmarks in the tunnels, save for the regularly-spaced torch brackets, and she'd long since lost count of how many they'd passed. Spike, at least, seemed to know where they were going; he never hesitated when the pair reached a fork in the tunnels. He didn't say a word the whole time, nor did he acknowledge Trixie's presence at all, except to occasionally make sure she was still following. With every step, Spike's mood seemed to sour, and the combination of the dark, oppressive stone, the ever-moving shadows, and her companion's gloomy attitude set Trixie's nerves on edge.

"How much further do you expect Trixie to walk?" she demanded, finally.

Spike grunted. "We're nearly there." Lifting a claw to point ahead, he said, "The Assistant is just around that bend."

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's hurry up, so Trixie can get out of here." Eager to reach her destination, Trixie picked up the pace, breaking into a canter and overtaking the dragon. She only made it a few paces before a tug on her tail brought her to a halt.

"Don't." Spike had Trixie's glorious, silver tail in his grip, holding the unicorn in place. His expression was just as dour as it had been since they'd set off; other than to stop Trixie's run, he hadn't reacted at all.

"Let go of Trixie!" Trixie yelled. "How dare you lay a hand on her tail?"

"I told you to stay close to me," Spike replied mildly. He let go of Trixie's hair, and the unicorn set about fixing the damage his claws had done to her perfect grooming.

"'Stay close'? You just said our destination is ahead! Besides, we've walked for Celestia knows how long and we haven't seen any of these dangers you were so concerned about."

As if Trixie had never tried to run off, Spike resumed his steady pace. Trixie grumbled bad-naturedly, but settled in behind him once again. If he wants to be that way, fine, she thought. Trixie will play along. Anything to get back to her stage.

Finally, the pair stopped in front of a simple, wooden door. Spike hadn't lied; it had only barely been out of sight. Now that she could see it, however, Trixie wasn't sure what she was looking at. It couldn't have belonged to any normal house or building; it wasn't rectangular, nor even rounded as in some older cottages. It came to a point at the top, and the edges were uneven and slightly lopsided. The whole thing had been generously coated in bright red paint, making a marked contrast from the dull stone of its surroundings.

"Here we are," Spike announced, knocking twice on the door. He didn't wait for a response, from Trixie or from inside, before pushing his way in and calling, "Assistant! Where are you?"

Trixie stepped inside, paused, closed her eyes, opened them, closed them again, took a deep breath, and opened them once more. The room she had just entered didn't belong here. It was made of wood. It smelled like leaves and ink. It even had windows!

Trixie knew she had just been in a dark tunnel deep within a mountain, and yet here was a room that could have been carved out of a giant tree. In fact, looking around, Trixie realized that was exactly what it was. The circular wall that surrounded the space had had shelves carved into it, upon which hundreds of books of all colors and sizes rested. The floor and ceiling displayed growth rings, bands of light and dark wood that told of a tree generations old. A pair of doors on opposite sides of the room presumably led to offices or living space, while a set of stairs that hadn't been built so much as the rest of the space had simply been carved around them led up to the next floor.

It was down these stairs that the Assistant made his appearance. He must have been the Assistant, for this was where he was supposed to be; Trixie just hadn't expected him to be a pony.

"I am here," he said flatly. He spoke with Spike's voice, but to hear it from this colt's mouth was unsettling. From his height and general lankiness, Trixie would have pegged him as a young teenager, but he had no cutie mark. In fact, he was almost entirely nondescript. The only distinguishing characteristics of this pony were his bright green mane, gelled and shaped into spikes, and his brilliant, emerald eyes.

"I brought Trixie," the Spike beside Trixie said, addressing the pony with Spike's colors, who had begun searching through the bookshelves nearest to him. Spike - that is, the version of him with scales and armor - spoke tersely; evidently, he didn't care much for the other Spike.

"Yes, Hero, I can see that," the pony Spike answered, though he didn't actually look at either of his guests. "I can also see that you've abandoned your post. That's against the rules."

Two Spikes are too many, Trixie decided. It was getting tedious to have to keep clarifying which one she was thinking about. No wonder they gave each other nicknames.

"Assistant!" Trixie said sharply. "Trixie needs answers, and you are going to give them to her."

The Assistant gave no indication that he'd heard, walking slowly down the wall of shelves and scanning the titles of the books as he passed. The Hero, fixing the Assistant with an icy glare, said, "He's looking for something. You'll never get an answer out of him when he's like this."

"Well, how long will it take for him to find whatever it is he's looking for?"

The Hero opened his mouth to answer, but it was the Assistant who spoke first. "Much longer, if you two keep distracting me!" he barked. "If you two can't follow the rules, then kindly get out and leave me to my work."

Trixie obligingly kept quiet, but not because the Assistant had told her to. Instead, she was busy turning over everything that she'd seen so far in her mind. There's definitely something wrong here, she thought. Both of these... people should be part of Spike's mind, but they're arguing and fighting with each other. Is that why Spike...?

"Found it," the Assistant announced, interrupting Trixie's thoughts. He'd pulled a thin, blue tome off the shelves and placed it on a lectern, and he was currently flipping through its few pages. "Trixie, Trixie, hmm... Ah, here it is. Two encounters, both in Ponyville, both antagonistic towards Twilight, and the second involved, oh dear, 'grievous magical offenses against the subject and his friends, including one incidence of unwilling transmogrification.' It would seem I don't remember you fondly, Trixie."

What was Trixie supposed to say to that? It was true; she wasn't proud of the way she'd conducted herself on her visits to that sleepy little village, even if she hadn't been in control of herself the second time. Spike's memories were accurate, and Trixie could hardly blame him for holding a grudge. After all, Trixie herself had held...

Hang on, memories? "Assistant," Trixie asked, "is this where Spike's memories are kept?"

The Assistant regarded her coolly. "What if it is?"

"Yes, Trixie, it is," said the Hero. He shot a smug look at the Assistant, who responded with a scowl. "That's what you wanted to find, right?"

At least someone here can be helpful. To the Hero, Trixie said, "Trixie needs to know the last thing Spike can remember before he fell asleep."

The Hero scratched his neck, not meeting Trixie's eyes. "Well, like I said, that's not really my area."

"No, it isn't." Placing the little book back on the shelf where he'd found it, the Assistant continued, "Your area is keeping ponies from seeing what we don't want them to see. But, of course, even that was too much for you."

The Hero seemed to take offense to that statement. "Twilight asked her to help us! That should be good enough for you!"

"Um, Trixie can—"

"Stay out of this!" both Spikes yelled in unison, before going back to their bickering.

Well, if Spike won't help Trixie, she can find this memory herself. The two Spikes, wrapped up in their shouting match as they were, didn't notice as Trixie slipped away and started checking the shelves. All she had to do was find out the system of organization and follow it to the most recent memory. Let's see, this section is 'Canterlot,' that one is 'Ponyville,' so there must be one for 'Manehattan.' There's 'Crystal Empire,' 'Everfree,' but no 'Manehattan.' Maybe there aren't enough memories for a whole section? Okay, so what about... 'Other!' And this is the shelf for 'Large Cities,' so which book is it?

The spines of the books held no clues. In place of a title, each cover had a row of letters and numbers; whatever system this was, Trixie didn't recognize it. There was nothing for it, then, but to pick one at random and start reading.

A thick tome with a yellow cover caught Trixie's eye, but the moment her hoof touched it, something in the room's atmosphere abruptly shifted. It took her a moment, but Trixie soon realized what it was: the two Spikes had stopped yelling. With a feeling of trepidation, Trixie turned around to find both Hero and Assistant staring at her with naked hostility in their eyes.

She swallowed nervously. "Trixie was only looking," she offered weakly.

The Spikes were unimpressed. The Hero raised his lance; in the grip of that wicked claw, the weapon looked more intimidating than ever. He took a step towards the unicorn, then another, and in another stride he was already charging, intent on running her through.

He never reached her. Focused as she was on the tip of the lance bearing down on her, Trixie didn't see the Assistant taking an enormous volume between his teeth. With a swift, sharp twist of his neck, he sent the book flying through the air.

Trixie caught the motion in the corner of her eye, and she turned towards it just as the full force of the throw and the weight of the book together hit her square in the tip of her horn.

Everything went dark.

Comments

[Gizogin]

Here's Chapter 3.
A horizontal rule seems to have disappeared somewhere between the chapter text and the published version; I'm working on fixing it, but I didn't want to throw off my schedule. Now I have to check the other chapters to see if the same issue pops up there.

A quick check has revealed that chapters 1 and 2 have no such issues with their scene breaks. There must be something weird with this chapter specifically. All the text is there, all the italics are where they should be, but no [ hr ]. Hmm.

I checked what I've written so far for the rest of the story, and the formatting is fine there. It appears to be only this line of this chapter that's having issues. Can anyone else see the rule between the two scenes, or is it absent for everyone?

I didn't "fix" it, but there is at least a line there now. I put [ hr ][ hr ] so that hopefully at least one of the tags would work. Now I can see one line that's lower than it should be. My guess is that there's a minor formatting issue on either the site or my browser. Stay tuned for more tales of formatting adventure!

The browser on my phone can see both lines. I guess the problem is specific to my laptop, so I'm going to remove the second tag and hope for the best.

[RTStephens]

So, it looks like Spike's personalities are fractured. Wonder what could have prompted that?

If Trixie will survive to find out, that is.

[RanmaChaos]

Another enjoyable chapter. Good job.