Grief is the Price We Pay

by Scyphi

I Was Blind

He had heard from others that in moments like this, it was for them like time had stopped.

But for Spike, it was more like time no longer mattered.

Nothing mattered at the moment. The world around him might as well have ceased to exist as Spike paid it no attention while swallowed up on all sides by his anguish. The only thing that did matter, the only thing he could even focus any of his attention on, was the one terrible reality lying before him.

Thorax was gone.

And even then he struggled to comprehend the very idea of this. How could he just be gone? He was there, alive, breathing, talking, and everything just minutes ago, and yet just like that, he was gone. Snuffed out in a moment. So quick that Spike’s mind reeled from the suddenness of it. How could everything that had made Thorax what he was just vanish like that? How could he be taken away and erased so thoroughly that as Spike lay there with his head upon Thorax’s form, weeping for his lost friend, he faced the reality that he was never coming back. This was something so final, an act so complete, that it simply could not be undone.

Thorax was dead.

Spike wasn’t necessarily a stranger to death—he knew what it was and what it meant, knew that dealing with it when it happened was a great burden to those left behind. He knew those who had lost someone close to them both recent and distant, had seen the sadness it wrought upon them, and he knew it was a sadness so deep that it was hard for it to go away. Applejack and the losses she had faced in her own family was perhaps the most foremost example Spike had encountered, knowing perfectly well that Applejack had years of experience coping and adapting with it under her metaphorical belt, and yet even still to this day it was easy to see how distant she could still get whenever the subject came up…even with her reputation of being a pony that excelled at keeping such sadness to herself. He knew death was a matter that stuck with them, dealing a sadness that could forever affect them thereafter in some manner, no matter how much you tried to fight it or move on—the grief of death was that potent.

And he had been witness to the dead before. The first instance he recalled was in his youth, when he accompanied the Sparkle family to the funeral of Twilight’s late grandfather, the first time he had ever seen a dead pony and the first time the reality of death had really struck him before. He had also been in attendance for the public funerals of a few notable Canterlot nobles at the time of their passing in the years since, in each one getting more and more of a taste of just what death was, what it was like, and what it meant.

But all of those instances involved the death of someone else, the nameless face in the crowd, no one he had any special attachment to before. This was the first time facing death was so personal for him, involving someone as close to him as Thorax…the first time Spike was really struck just how much death could take away from someone.

He was finding he was woefully unprepared for the desolation now clawing away at him, helpless to do anything to stop it but to shed useless tears for his dear deceased friend.

He couldn’t handle this truth, couldn’t comprehend a world without Thorax. Looking back on the four short moons he had held with the changeling, he was struck at just how short a time Thorax had been in his life, such a small sliver of his total lifetime. And yet he had become so pertinent to Spike’s existence that he couldn’t comprehend losing it again, unable to see how his life could still stand without Thorax by his side. He had sacrificed everything for this changeling, risked his own life and done everything he could to ensure this changeling not just lived, but thrived, getting the best and happiest life Spike could give him…only to have it all come to an abrupt end like this regardless. It left Spike feeling lost and alone…where could he go now? How could he go on without Thorax? Should he even try? Because at the moment, he felt like despite everything he had done for Thorax, it still hadn’t been enough, and that thought cut deeper into him than any knife ever could.

And so the world around him didn’t matter, because in that moment, he was left wondering if even himself mattered anymore. He felt like he was left with nothing without Thorax, and was nothing as a result. He couldn’t even save his greatest friend in his world…and with that failure’s weight crushing him, what else mattered? He ignored the world in that moment, because right now the world and his existence in it felt utterly meaningless. He wanted nothing to do with it right now. It’s not like it was going to be able to give him what he really wanted in that moment anyway.

But of course, the world wasn’t going to let him be overlooked. He dimly noticed as several came to try and interact with him, presumably to try and give comfort to him, but he didn’t want such comfort. It all felt empty, and none of it could be used to bring Thorax back, so he fought off any and all advances attempting to do as such. He didn’t even pay attention to whomever it was that might be trying at the time, whether they were pony, dragon, or changeling. He didn’t care. Any appendage that came within the reach of his own he immediately, violently, and blindly swatted it back however he could, anything to just get them all to back off. For what felt like hours to Spike though, the others didn’t seem to get the hint that he didn’t want their hollow platitudes and inadequate attempts of comfort because they kept trying again and again. Whenever Spike swatted away one, another would soon step into its place and the cycle would repeat.

This didn’t change until finally at one point, while moving to carelessly swat away the latest figure trying to approach him, Spike faintly realized he felt his claws connect with something solid for a brief second, followed by a loud yelp and the figure immediately backing away. It occurred to him that he may have, in his recklessness, accidentally sliced open someone’s leg doing this…but he found he couldn’t care. Whatever had happened, it seemed to have finally driven home the idea that Spike didn’t want comforting, that he just wanted to be left to weep for his fallen friend, and finally everyone else backed off. Eventually, they vanished from the detection range of his senses altogether and he realized they had all left, probably not knowing what else to do but to relent to Spike’s wishes and give him some distance. He was thereafter left undisturbed.

Spike both cherished and hated that loneliness. On one side, being so utterly alone felt weirdly right in his grief-stricken mind, that being left abandoned was the right fate for him. But on the other side, Spike felt the emptiness of the loneliness, left with nothing but his grief and the fact that with Thorax’s death, he had no one now…leaving him seeing that he didn’t really want to be that alone. But as before, he couldn’t bring himself to care, let alone do anything to fix it. The world didn’t matter. Nothing mattered…except the dead changeling laying there before him, into the shoulder of which he was weeping hot and bitter tears, tears that felt like they stung the entirety of his body just to shed and yet still seemed grossly inadequate in expressing just how utterly crushed Thorax’s passing was leaving him.

He was like that for a long time, lost in his weeping and tears, blind to all around him except himself and his pain. It was both glorious and horrifying…and ultimately impermanent. Eventually Spike found he had simply run out of tears, and despite feeling the beast of his sadness burrowing deep and restlessly in his body still, he couldn’t seem to force his body to shed anymore. So he just laid there atop of Thorax’s body, gazing unseeingly straight ahead, lost in the parade of misery that was marching through his mind and soul.

Thorax was gone.

He still couldn’t wrap his mind around that, the idea that Thorax wasn’t just gone momentarily, but gone forever. He was never, ever, coming back. The eternalness of this just seemed too unfathomable, and every time he even tried to picture just how long an eternity with no Thorax was, the pain of his sadness got too overwhelming and his train of thought would become derailed, swept away in the despair and unable to complete the journey to finish that endless line of thought. Spike wondered if maybe it was better to not even try…let him at least hold onto the illusion that perhaps eternity did have an end and Thorax could come back then.

It didn’t help that the sight of Thorax’s lifeless body under him didn’t look like it was dead, but rather just pretending. The lethal stab wound that had brought about this tragedy wasn’t in Spike’s line of sight due to his position lying atop of Thorax, and from there, he couldn’t see the physical damage that had undoubtedly killed his friend. Without that visual reminder, it allowed the idea that perhaps the death of his friend he now faced wasn’t actually so. From Spike’s angle, Thorax looked as if he was simply asleep. He kept expecting Thorax to suddenly wake up, turn to look at him grinning cheekily, and say “Gotcha.” Then they could share a hearty laugh and all could go on and be fine and normal again.

He wished, prayed, and pleaded that this was the case. But of course it never happened. Thorax remained limp and lifeless under him, his body reduced to a mere empty shell, with everything in it that had contained Thorax’s very essence of being having been drained out like the blood that had dribbled from the wound in the dead changeling’s chest. Spike, in fact, couldn’t help but view the two as the same thing…and could note with dismay that the wound had stopped bleeding finally, the pool of blood it had left slowly cooling and drying out, congealing into an unsightly stain on the floor of the ruined changeling throne room. There was no life in this changeling-shaped shell anymore…and yet Spike still had a hard time seeing it.

The most damning thing of all was that Thorax still felt warm beneath Spike’s cheek, as if there was still life within him. It seemed bizarre to consider something so dead could be so warm…he had always thought death was something cold and uncomfortable. Yet Thorax, despite the hours still marching on, still felt as warm as any time he felt alive, the chitin Spike rested half his body upon still feeling malleable and conforming upon his scales as it had always felt during Thorax’s life, just soft enough to provide comfort. He was surprised that warmth had lasted so long, was continuing to do so, and was showing little sign of stopping. It bellied some sign and some faint hope of life within the body.

But Spike knew it was an illusion. The warmth was there, but there were absolutely no other sign of life in Thorax now. He was too still, too limp. There was no movement of breathing in his chest, no sound of his internal organs operating under the black chitin, his wings too flaccid and wilted like a dead plant, and above all, there was no pulse of life to be felt…no heartbeat to speak of.

Thorax was dead.

Spike found time and time again as he laid there that he couldn’t deny it. But he desperately wished he could find some way in which he could.

He was like that for a long time. For most of it, he paid no attention to the passage of time, and thus didn’t have any clear idea of just how long it had been. To him, it felt like weeks to years were passing by, a veritable eternity he had to endure without his best friend alive and beside him. But by the end of it, gradually as his mind started pay attention to its surroundings once again, his eyes focused for the first time not on the deceased Thorax his head rested upon, but rather the line of broken clumps of resin marking where the side wall of the throne room had once stood as well as the open sky that lay beyond it. Spike stared at it unregistering for a moment, but he gradually started to remember where he was, lying amongst the fallen rubble that was now the ruined hive chamber, listening to the distant crack of loose rubble still randomly shifting positions on its own, and the feathering breeze that filtered through the room blown open to the outside world.

Eventually, he shifted his gaze by rolling his eyes upwards into the sky, searching for the sun in hopes of gauging the present time. He found it was well into the middle of the western sky, only a few degrees past the peak height of the bright orb’s movement, putting the time about mid-afternoon that same day. Only a couple of hours had passed…only a couple of hours during which Thorax had been deceased. The much shorter window of time than Spike was expecting both startled him and frightened him. Those mere couple of hours facing Thorax’s death alone had been pure torture to bear through in of themselves—how could he possibly expect to deal with Thorax’s death for the rest of his life?

Depressed with that thought, coupled with his already rampant and potent sadness, Spike let his gaze settle back into the same spot as before, staring straight ahead and continuing to rest his head on Thorax’s shoulder, blankly looking at nothing at all as he let his mind be submerged in his bitter thoughts over the loss of his friend. He kept at this for some minutes more still. But then he was jolted out of this negative revere when the head of a yellow reformed changeling suddenly leaned into his view, startling him.

Surprised, he lifted his head abruptly so to take in the newcomer changeling better, his sudden movement startling the changeling in turn, who quickly backed away a pace, not wanting to look like he was intruding. He wasn’t alone either, as there were three other changelings standing close to him in a cluster, colored teal, pale green, and pale orange respectively. All four of them seemed oddly timid, mellow, and gloomy—not at all the dispositions Spike was used to seeing in the changelings of the hive and was struck by just how different the transformation they had undergone today had left them.

He was further reminded of this when the first, yellow, changeling spoke up after quickly recovering from Spike’s sudden shifting of his attention onto them. “Please,” the changeling spoke politely and respectively. He was conveying such a sad sense of sympathy for the tragedy that Spike felt as if he was suddenly the changeling sensing their emotions. “We don’t mean to disturb you. But…we wanted to ask if we could move Thorax to a more desirable location inside the hive…where we all can pay our respects too.”

Spike quietly stared at the lugubrious changelings for a long moment, not immediately replying as he gradually let the full weight of his head rest against Thorax’s shoulder again. His first reaction was to refuse the changelings do anything with Thorax’s body, because doing so felt like surrendering to the fact that Thorax was dead, allowing the last vestiges of everything that had been his good friend be stripped away from him. And he didn’t feel ready to face that just yet. Just the thought of doing so made his stomach churn both in fear and despair. But as he continued to watch the changelings, he saw they were sympathizing with him, understanding and respecting what Spike was suffering. They knew what he was going through…and he soon realized it was because they were hurting too. They had just been given new purpose and direction in their lives, a whole new state of being full of hope and friendship, but that victory was soiled by the death of the changeling who had helped make it happen. And like Spike, he realized these changelings didn’t quite know how to deal with that any more than he did. And with that in mind, he found he could sympathize right back.

He closed his eyes for a second, breathing a slow sigh. The thought of what he was about to do nearly brought him to tears again, but instead of surrendering to his grief, he held it back with what strength he could muster and slowly nodded his head. “Okay,” he said, shifting his arms so to push himself back up onto his feet. “Okay.”

He rose into a standing position, the side of his body that had been resting against the lingering warmth of the deceased changeling felt chilled as Spike stripped it away, and he involuntarily shivered. He gazed down at Thorax, laying there on the floor. He had to fight the urged to throw himself back upon the body and hold it close, refusing it be taken away, but he also saw for the first time just how ungainly and unsightly Thorax appeared all sprawled out like this. It suddenly seemed disrespectful.

Spike forced himself to take a step back from Thorax, gazing at his friend’s fallen form before looking pleadingly back up at the changelings, who hadn’t yet moved. “Just…please be gentle with him.”

The yellow changeling nodded his head in agreement, like this request went completely without saying. “We will,” he assured.

And as they stepped forward to begin, they did indeed work to move Thorax’s body with the greatest of reverence, again surprising Spike, considering how just hours ago these changelings had thought of Thorax as a traitor to his race. It touched him greatly to see what Thorax had done and the sacrifice he gave wasn’t lost on these changelings, and once again, he found himself nearly driven to tears. In the presence of others now and this time keeping himself aware of it though, Spike again forced himself to hold back the weeping, trying to put on a brave face. He felt like he utterly failed at that, but he managed to hold back the tears save for some light sniffling and blurred vision as his eyes got watery for a second.

Using their magic to peel off the gel still was adhering Thorax’s forehooves to the floor, the four changelings then worked together to gently use their magic to lift Thorax and slowly rotate his body so to lower him onto a stretcher they had brought with them, placing him carefully on his back. This done, each changeling then took up a corner of the stretcher and reverently started to carry it out of the ruined throne room and back into the corridor leading into the interior of the hive.

Loyally following his friend even after death, Spike went with them, solemn.

They didn’t go especially far, just down a level and then into a moderately sized, but fairly enclosed private chamber. As it bore a physical door similar to the beetle-like doors that guarded the queen’s sanctuary, Spike figured it likely that it was used for Queen Chrysalis’s purposes, or some other similarly important changeling. Upon seeing that the room contained a circular bed of dried moss upon a slightly raised platform of blue-green resin and remembering Thorax’s descriptions of such collections of moss serving as the standard bed within the hive, Spike suspected it might be some sort of VIP bedchamber.

The four changelings carried Thorax to the moss bed then magically lifted him from the stretcher and onto it with the same reverence as before. Again, they set Thorax down on his back, positioning Thorax so he lay more gracefully with his hind legs straight and his wings neatly laid to either side of his body. One used his magic to gently wipe away some of the drying blood still staining Thorax’s chest, before he and another changeling took one of the deceased changeling’s forehooves and folded them together atop of Thorax’s chest. When they were done and had stepped back, Thorax lay upon the mossy bed precisely how you’d stereotypically expect the deceased to be laid for a public viewing. For Spike though, it only made Thorax appear all the more like he was simply sleeping, making it all the harder for him to accept the idea that Thorax was, in reality, dead.

This done, the four changelings then filed themselves into a small line and each took turns respectively to pay their respects, speaking a few words to their fallen comrade while Spike stood to one side and watched. Most of what the four said was fairly brief, to the point, and spoken in their native changeling language of linguae mutationis, not Equestrian. But Spike still understood enough of the language to be able to follow along. What the four changelings said all roughly bore the same things: an apology for failing to treat Thorax kindly while he was in the hive and failing to listen to his ideas sooner, a word of thanks for his sacrifice and all he had done to give them the “enlightenment” that has set them on this new and reformed path, and a promise that they would not squander this chance Thorax had paid for with his life, wanting to make the most of what this “enlightenment” had given them. It was all very heartfelt—there was no doubt in Spike’s mind that each changeling meant every word of it.

After each of the four changelings had paid their respects though, they turned and departed from the room. Spike, however, stayed. He couldn’t bring himself to leave Thorax’s side still, so he didn’t, instead taking up a seat to one side of the room where he could watch over Thorax’s body. He eventually found out much later that him doing this went against changeling tradition. Normally, the room bearing the deceased for viewing was kept empty of any other occupants save whatever person was in there to give their respects, so to grant privacy to that person and give them a comfortable opportunity to speak their minds without fear of being overheard or seen. But the changelings, understanding Spike’s situation, wordlessly made an exception for the little dragon on this occasion and informally considered him something of an honor guard for the fallen changeling, leaving him be.

Spike sat there on his own for a few minutes, gazing sadly at his fallen friend on the mossy bed, struggling to come to terms with Thorax’s death still. At one point he looked himself over and realized he was a mess—his knees were bloodstained from kneeling beside Thorax when trying to treat his stab wound as were his claws, his shirt was scuffed and dirtied, the false eyeglasses were tucked into the shirt’s pocket but Spike could still see the lens that had gotten cracked, and he realized he had forgotten his sweater vest in the throne room…not that it mattered. As he had used it to try and stop Thorax’s bleeding, it was so soaked with blood it was long ruined. The bow tie he wore seemed to be the only thing that escaped the day’s events relatively unscathed, but this was of little comfort to Spike as he acknowledged that he was a mess. That didn’t mean he cared enough to do something about it. All he cared about was that he was alone with his deceased friend and felt helpless on what to do next.

But the loneliness didn’t last long at least. Soon the first changelings come to pay their respects for the fallen Thorax began to file in a few at a time, ranging either from one at a time, or sometimes in groups of two to three. Either way, Spike quickly realized there was a great many of them, all of them reformed into new states and far, far, more than he expected there to be—much more than had been in the throne room at the time of the transformation, proving that this transformation, or the “Enlightenment” as the changelings were already coming to call it, was more widespread throughout the hive than he had first dared to suspect.

Some of the changelings were there just to pay their respects to the deceased Thorax, but some also came to speak to Spike as well, recognizing him as Thorax’s ally and friend and thus deserving a share of the praise they held for Thorax too. It was through such conversations that Spike learned more about what had been going on. The transformation that had turned the changelings into their new forms was apparently fueled by such a massive burst of magic that many changelings commented they had never before seen or heard of the like, and it was suspected that the accompanying destruction of Queen Chrysalis’s throne may have only amplified it. It was sufficient that the effects reached not just the changelings in the throne room, but many of the changelings in outlying rooms throughout the adjacent levels above and below the throne room, spurring them to do as Thorax had just before his death and share their emotions with all around them. The rest of the changelings in the hive sensed this massive burst of emotive-fueled magic and, shocked and intrigued, moved to investigate. As they found out what happened, many started to transform too, resulting in a sort of ongoing chain reaction that was sweeping through the hive even now as they spoke.

There were, of course, still changelings within the hive that hadn’t yet transformed and were still favoring the hive’s ways of old, but they were part of a rapidly growing minority as more and more changelings were converted, and many those that hadn’t yet were still shocked and moved by this transformation and what it meant for them and their kind, suggesting that many more would soon follow in the days to weeks to come. Many of the changelings who spoke with Spike seemed confident that the entire whole of the hive would be converted in time, and seemed optimistic about what the future held in store for changelings everywhere. Many of them sounded like Thorax in their unbounding optimism, making Spike miss his departed changeling friend all the more and wishing Thorax could be here to see the victory and dream he had finally helped to bring about.

Despite that victory though, the hive had still been thrown on its head thanks to the day’s events, and was presently in a state of near disarray. Their transformations had left the changelings somewhat shellshocked by what had happened, and it was clear that they were still trying to figure out the full depth of what this all meant. As already noted, they had come to refer to the event that had transformed so many of them as the “Enlightenment,” recognized it as a good thing, and saw that they had been blessed with a chance to better themselves because of it. But Spike got the impression that they were still trying to understand the full significance of it all, struggling to put what they learned both into words and into practice.

Nevertheless, they did seem to grasp the concept still and all that Spike met as they came to pay their respects were immediately repentant of their past actions, now choosing to fully embrace their new forms and all that entailed. Many that spoke with Spike also took the time to beg for his forgiveness for their past actions, stunned and ashamed now by the things they had done in the past. This about face was so extreme for the changelings that many of them no longer could believe they had ever even wanted to live the old way at all, unable to conceive that the old way could in any way be better than what they had now, seeing it as only detrimental to themselves and as a culture. Yet at the same time, this sudden switch in views was so complete and abrupt that many changelings were still reeling from it, seeing the old ways were to be abandoned, but not knowing any other way of living and overwhelmed by the possibilities this change presented them. Some voiced bafflement at how they had never been able to consider any of this as possible before, as now it seemed so obvious.

“I was blind,” one changeling had eloquently put it, “but now I see.”

Altogether, it genuinely amazed Spike to see just how strongly influenced to change the changelings had become, as well as their genuine interest in turning over a new leaf as a race. Even more heartening however was the fact that the changelings all saw Thorax as the one who made it happen, and as such, Spike wasn’t the only one they begged for forgiveness—many of the respects they paid to Thorax were to apologize for the mistreatment they had given him while he had been in the hive. They all had seen him as a misfit at best and as a traitor at worst, but now were forced to acknowledge that they were wrong to do so. One changeling even commented aloud that Thorax was “perhaps the wisest of us all,” a comment which stunned Spike and cause him to shed a few more tears over that, but this time partly out of happiness. Despite the pain he felt for losing his friend, he could at least be heartened that the example Thorax had set for the changelings was not being ignored, and they readily acknowledged the sacrifice he had made for them. They all sought to convey just how much that meant to them too. Many were quite passionate about it. Several were driven to tears, enthralled by the chance they had been given, dismayed at the price that had to be paid for it, and ashamed of their roles in creating that price. Seeing this left Spike feeling that if anyone here could truly understand the full depth of Thorax’s sacrifice, it was these changelings.

The changelings didn’t just convey their grief for Thorax’s passing verbally, though. It took the first dozen or so changelings before he realized the significance of it, but Spike eventually noticed that every changeling that entered the room also bore an aura of almost overwhelming sadness surrounding them. Spike initially just took it to be the fact that these changelings were only carrying themselves in a sad manner, but then realized it was more than that—this sadness he felt was the genuine emotions of each of these changelings, being actively shared with all around them like Thorax had demonstrated before his death, and that sharing clearly wasn’t limited to just the changelings. The changelings were already aware of this too, as was proven to Spike when he finally asked one changeling about it while she was speaking to him.

“That is how we must change for the better,” she explained to him. “Before, we stole the emotions we needed to survive and only ever got enough to scrape by. But now, we will share the emotions we already have with each other, and none will have to go hungry so long as there is another changeling to help feed the first.”

Spike nodded solemnly to himself, glancing sadly over at Thorax’s fallen form where he lay, thinking about how this changeling’s words reminded him of the sort of things Thorax wanted to see his species achieve. “I just didn’t think it’d be…so noticeable, or done so freely, even to non-changelings like me.”

“I do perhaps see a downside to it,” the changeling admitted softly, averting her gaze. “Everyone in the hive seems to be saddened by Thorax’s passing…and by sharing our emotions like this, we are only redoubling our lamentations with others already grieving. In this tragic time…that is probably not helping anyone.” Her gaze returned to Spike, and she seemed resolute suddenly but also concerned. “This new ability to share instead of horde…it is truly wonderful and I hope I speak for many when I say we only want to promote it, but this is also an ability that is still new to us and are still trying to understand. We have not yet figured out if there is a way to minimize its effects with respect to those that may not want to share our feelings, or if it even can be minimized.”

“It’s okay,” Spike assured quickly. He lowered his gaze slightly. “I mean, feeling a bit of what your feeling right now isn’t…” he paused to take a deep breath, trying to draw strength without breaking down himself, “…well, it’s certainly not a good feeling, but, oddly…it is sort of comforting knowing that…” he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the tell-tale sting of tears threatening to form in them again, “…that I’m not the only one who’s been utterly crushed by Thorax’s death.”

The changeling shifted on her hooves awkwardly for a second, unsure how to respond to that. “There’s more to it, though,” she pressed anyway, “because regardless of whether or not we actually can minimize how much of our emotions we share with others…I’m afraid to even try.” She motioned to her new yellow body. “As it was that sharing of emotions that allowed us to achieve this new state, I fear that doing anything that could end that sharing at any time may reverse this transformation, and only cause us to fall back onto…old habits. I do not want that…for myself or any of the others.”

Spike looked at her for a long moment. “I think the fact you have that fear says you won’t let it come to that anyway,” he said, trying to be supportive.

It did manage to draw a comforted grin out of the changeling in response.

And it really did bring Spike a small amount of comfort too, comfort he desperately needed in this horrible time. But with it also came a recollection that this wasn’t the first time he had experienced this free sharing of emotions like this. He hadn’t realized it at the time, nor did he think Thorax had either, but in recent moons, whenever Thorax was especially riled up with some emotion, Spike had always felt like he could sense some of that same emotion being conveyed to him. As such, he suspected Thorax had lately been sharing his emotions a little too, making Spike realize just how close to his own transformation Thorax had been.

As he sadly focused his attention back on Thorax’s body, he thought to himself that Thorax should have gotten that, sporting a new body of his own right along with these other changelings, eager to put to practice these new ideas the hive was now willing to take up. He had been so close too…only to have it ripped away at the last second. And that just didn’t seem fair. As such, even though many of the changelings who came to pay their respects with Thorax also wished to speak with Spike as well, Spike did little of the actual talking, instead letting the changeling speak while he continued to mull and long for his deceased friend. And while it was great to hear all these good things the changelings suddenly had to say about Thorax, it still didn’t change the fact that he was gone and not coming back. And with that heavy thought on his mind, it left Spike with little want to say much of anything.

But that changed when, well after Spike had lost count of how many changelings had come to pay their respects thus far, one changeling in particular strolled in. He was colored mostly a bright lime green that darkened into a sparkly emerald green on his underbelly, except for some light orange coloring about the base of his neck and dark fuchsia-colored elytra covering the folded wings on his back. He also bore three pearl-like structures in his chest, which seemed to be a reoccurring trait among the transformed changelings, but only on certain ones Spike had noticed, who wondered idly if there might be a reason why.

Regardless, this newcomer changeling entered the room and immediately approached Thorax’s body first, like all of the others before him. He stood there regarding the fallen changeling lying on the bed of moss sadly for a long moment of silence, extruding sadness in his openly shared emotions…but Spike also noticed with mild interest that there was also a deep sense of regret and shame mixed in, more than he noticed with changelings before him.

Finally, the changeling sighed wearily, then drew in his breath again and turned to face Spike sitting to one side. “You are Spike, then?” he asked. “Thorax’s dragon friend?”

“That’s right,” Spike mumbled back, disinterestedly watching the changeling as he approached where Spike sat.

“Hello then,” the changeling greeted softly. “My name is Synthorax.”

Spike perked up a little, surprised by the name. “Synthorax?” he asked, wondering if the similarity it seemed to have with Thorax’s own name was mere coincidence.

It wasn’t. “I’m one of Thorax’s clutchmates,” Synthorax explained. “In your terms, I suppose that would make me his brother.”

Spike straightened even more, further surprised by this development. He knew Thorax had siblings, but Synthorax was the first to even try to make himself known to Spike, catching him off guard. “His brother?” he repeated, still trying to process this.

“Well, younger brother, technically. Thorax’s egg hatched a few minutes before mine, but…” he trailed off, unsure how to proceed. Noticing Spike’s surprise, he swallowed awkwardly. “Did Thorax ever speak of his clutchmates?”

“On occasion, but he never really mentioned specific names before,” Spike admitted, taking Synthorax in. He was trying to see if he bore any resemblance to Thorax in anyway, but it was difficult to see given Synthorax’s reformed state and having no frame of reference of how Thorax might have looked had he achieved a similar state.

At this, Synthorax turned ashamed. “I am not too surprised,” he confessed. “Thorax and I had not spoken to each other since we were nymphs, and rarely even saw each other after that until he fled the hive.” He hung his head, averting his gaze as his shame settled even more heavily upon him. “Sufficing to say…he and I did not get along very well.”

Spike was still pondering the idea of meeting any of Thorax’s siblings though. “What about his other clutchmates?” he asked. “How…are they handling this?”

Synthorax mulled upon the question for a brief second before answering. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m not even sure if any of the others are coming to pay their respects too, or already have…though I suppose if they have, they did so discretely or I guess you’d already know…” he sighed. “I imagine Pharynx at least isn’t going to come…last I heard, he hasn’t transformed yet and is probably taking all of this…bitterly…but then I guess Thorax was always a little closer with Pharynx than the rest of us, him being the eldest and all…though even that’s not saying much, really.” Looking back at Spike and realizing how this might sound, he switched gears to explain. “You have to keep in mind…changelings don’t really do the family thing like you and the ponies probably do.”

“I know,” Spike assured. He sheepishly played with his claws. “Thorax explained to me the particulars once…you basically all go off on your own and don’t interact much after that.”

Synthorax nodded solemnly, then glanced back at Thorax’s limp form, his sadness visibly manifesting on his face now. “After all this, though…I kind of hope that might change…if only because I’m finding myself wishing that hadn’t been the case between me and Thorax, now that he’s…” he trailed off, unable to bring himself to finish the statement. His apparent sadness and regret visibly increased again. “Tell me…in the end…was he happy? Living the life he was?”

Spike went quiet as he considered it for a second. Grieving as he was for Thorax’s passing, reflecting back on his time with Thorax made his heart ache stronger, and it was hard to focus on finding an answer. “There were certainly rough spots,” Spike finally admitted. In thinking about it though, he just couldn’t say Thorax had ever been too bothered by that. “But…yes…I think he was happy enough…at least, I don’t think he would’ve given it up for something else. He…” Spike’s voice cracked, but he forced himself to press on. “…he was pleased with what he had accomplished…in the end…though I wish he could’ve had the opportunity to do more still.”

Synthorax nodded to himself, but he didn’t seem very reassured as he turned to face Thorax’s body again. It was clear all of this was bothering him greatly. “I had never held Thorax in high regard much,” he admitted suddenly. “Always thought he was the crazy and odd one, what with all of his…strange ideas…the few times we spoke, we were…always butting heads over that, until the…the last time we directly spoke with each other…we fought…I called him things that…” Again he trailed off, his regret deepening further still. He closed his eyes sadly as he started to tear up. “Oh Thorax,” he murmured softly. “I should’ve listened to you. Clearly, you were smarter than me in so many ways, not so blinded by tradition like I was…I should’ve seen it sooner. You…you deserve better, but…I promise…I’m listening now.” He heaved a heavy sigh and sulked to himself for a long moment. Then sniffing his nose and suddenly regaining his composure, he raised his head and turned to face Spike again. “What sort of life was Thorax living after he left the hive?” he asked softly. “Can you tell me?”

Spike hesitated for a second, thinking this might be hard for him to do, but regardless, he nodded his head. “Sure.”

The two spent the next several minutes discussing the basics of Thorax’s life since Spike had met him. Synthorax kept taking special note of anything that might touch upon Thorax’s ideals, unintentionally prying for more details until the conversation also covered just what sort of future Thorax had been envisioning for the changelings and their hive. Synthorax noted at one point that Thorax’s vision was “very optimistic,” but he said it in such a way that it was hard for Spike to determine just what he meant by that. If the changeling had any problems with that high optimism, he did not speak of them and instead kept them to himself, bottling them away where Spike wouldn’t notice that they might be there. In fact, if anything, Spike noticed that Synthorax seemed more determined dedicating himself to the expectations of his transformation and the “Enlightenment” that came with it. Like all the other changelings, Synthorax recognized he had been given a chance to change for the better and was eager to act upon it, but he didn’t want to do just that, Spike thought he also wanted to carry on from where Thorax would be leaving off, perhaps as his way of making it up to Thorax all the things Synthorax had done wrong to him.

If so, then Spike couldn’t help but approve of that intent.

Eventually, both Spike and Synthorax ran out of things to say. As he knew there were plenty of others who wanted their chance to pay their respects to Thorax and not wanting to delay them too long, Synthorax decided that would be his time to leave. But as he reached the door, he stopped and turned to look back at Spike to say one last thing. “I’m glad Thorax managed to find you as a friend,” he spoke truthfully then, regret for his treatment of his clutchmate catching up with him once more, he added, “I just wish I had been such friend to him too.”

He then exited the room, leaving the air thick with the deep guilt and regret from Synthorax’s shared emotions. Spike felt saddened by it, sympathizing a little. He wished he knew of something he could do for the troubled changeling, only to remember that he wished such a thing could be provided for himself too, and the chat with Synthorax in many ways made Spike long for his deceased friend all the more. Yet, the deep regret Synthorax put off did give Spike a sign to search for in other changelings that came in to pay their respects, noting that such regret was relatively rare at such strengths except for only a couple of other changelings that came in. It left Spike wondering if these changelings might be other clutchmates of Thorax’s, but if they were, none of them were nearly as talkative as Synthorax and did not reveal themselves as such, and Spike couldn’t bring himself to ask.

The viewing continued on regardless and the minutes started to turn into hours. There was no sign of an end of changelings filing in to see Thorax, and again Spike was stunned at the sheer number of them. He still didn’t see any that weren’t transformed into the now-familiar forms so many of them had gained. Spike wondered just how many of them there actually were now, shocked so many had not only transformed but had also resolved to change their lives to something more friendly and amiable in such a short space of time. It was nothing short of a miracle, but as wonderful as that miracle was, it still felt bittersweet in light of Thorax’s passing. Spike again wished Thorax was alive to see the good that was taking place in his hive, and remained dismayed that it just couldn’t be.

The more Spike heard about the changes taking place in the hive though, the more he grew concerned about whether or not it could last as he became aware of one very big problem facing the changelings—with Chrysalis’s ousting, the hive was now effectively leaderless. And while the large majority of the changelings all seemed to know where they wanted their race to eventually be and end up, they didn’t seem to quite know what they would need to do to get there, a thought that Spike learned was beginning to weigh heavily as the initial euphoria of their transformations wore off and thoughts to the future slipped in its place.

In fact the changelings were acting like a chicken without its head, needing someone to guide, direct, and instruct them through this drastic change in their lives, but had no one they could turn to and no one stepping up to fill in that void. And Spike knew enough about politics to know that this power vacuum was only going to leave the changelings very vulnerable if they didn’t find that leader in short order. If they didn’t, someone could come along and seize control of their hive for their own purposes, good or bad, but it was the bad that Spike especially feared, thinking that anything that robbed these changelings of their new shot in existence as an utter tragedy.

He especially feared Chrysalis, wherever she was now, would see this and seek to take advantage of the chaos so to restore herself to the throne and, undoubtedly, undo everything that had taken place today, making the whole transformation pointless. But Spike found the changelings reacted to the mere suggestion such an idea with surprising fury, determined to refuse to do anything with their former queen from this point on. By now, the changelings had seen for themselves Chrysalis’s secret stash of horded food and were justly irate by this, but it turned out this was only the latest of a long list of secret grievances the changelings had been collecting against Chrysalis and her attempts to suppress their rights—it was just none of them had ever thought there was a way out until now, nor that it was by drastically abandoning the old changeling way of life.

But as a result, Spike found none of the changelings he met were willing to let Chrysalis back into the hive without at least ensuring she received some justice back in turn. Their exact ideas on that varied. Some, like Thorax no doubt would’ve, wanted to try and reform Chrysalis too, thereby blessing her with the same enlightenment they had received. But far more simply wanted Chrysalis gone from their lives forever no matter what. Despite attempts to search for her already underway, there was no sign of the missing ex-queen, and no one was quite sure where she had gone or would’ve gone. But wherever it was, many changelings just wanted her to remain there and stay far away from their hive. Others still however came to Spike and swore that they would hunt her down anyway, seeking vengeance against her for her role in killing Thorax, as if they thought this would bring comfort to Spike—it didn’t, because Spike knew it wouldn’t matter what happened to Chrysalis now, Thorax would still be dead and gone from the world.

Whatever the case, the changelings made it clear they were not about to let Chrysalis back into their lives now that they had finally gotten rid of her, and yet Spike still feared for their futures should she try regardless. He knew Chrysalis was a cunning foe, and recent events only affirmed that. If anyone could find a way to slink her way back to the top of the hive despite the challenges awaiting her, it was probably Chrysalis. And whenever the fear of that possible eventuality grew to its peak, Spike would turn to whatever changeling was in the room and urge them to do whatever they could to find a leader, asking who among them could be one. Unfortunately, the other thing all of the changelings seemed to be in agreement on was that if anyone could’ve been their replacement leader, it was Thorax. Several told Spike straight up that, had Thorax lived, they would’ve sworn a lifetime of allegiance to him right then and there, which was highly flattering for Thorax, of course. But with much despair, Spike could only remind them that with Thorax’s passing, this was not an option. Spike wasn’t certain Thorax would be up for the task of leadership anyway…it wasn’t really ever his style.

In lieu of a clean solution then, this was a problem that remained unresolved, and eventually Spike, frustrated and saddened at his inability to help the changelings find that solution for them, let the subject drop for now.

The viewing pressed on further still, and more changelings continued to file in. By this time though, the novelty of the changelings’ new forms was starting to wear off on Spike, and their words of comfort, support, and praise for Thorax, all started to sound the same and blur together. Thus, growing depressed and disinterested in the proceedings, Spike started to withdraw upon himself to sulk once more, ignoring the world around him.

But that changed when, unexpectedly, someone new entered the room. Spike first noticed when the sound of the newcomer’s steps didn’t match those of the changelings before and turned to look at the newcomer only to see she wasn’t a changeling at all.

“Ember,” Spike breathed in surprise, perking up at the sight of her.

The dragoness glanced solemnly in his direction, but she did not reply as she strolled into the room. She did so in an oddly timid and dejected manner that Spike wasn’t at all used to seeing Ember do. He was used to her acting strong and confident, not…cowed and gloomy. She had been given back her scepter, which she carried in one hand as she unhurriedly crossed the room, using it like a walking stick almost like she couldn’t bring herself to do anything else with it. Spike also noticed that her scales were still covered with dried slime that hadn’t yet flaked off from her time spent in a cocoon. It showed more obviously than normal because the dust and grit kicked up while she helped unbury Thorax earlier had stuck to the drying slime and stayed there. The fact that Ember hadn’t bothered to clean it off yet wasn’t especially surprising seeing that dragons typically wouldn’t anyway, but Spike still felt like it showed he wasn’t the only one who had been through too much today.

Whatever the case, the first thing Ember did upon entering was to stroll purposely up to the side of the mossy bed Thorax’s body laid upon, and there spent a moment sadly but silently taking in the sight of the fallen changeling. Then, heaving an almighty sigh, she straightened and moved her scepter to plant it onto the floor, perfectly centered before her with the ruby tip pointing straight upwards. While holding it in that place with both sets of claws, Ember then quietly closed her eyes and bowed her head, letting the top of her head rest against the side of the scepter. She remained like that, nearly motionless, for a very long moment, leaving the watching Spike to wonder just what it was that she was doing. Eventually, he realized in shock that it was a draconian form of honorary salute and felt he should be touched, knowing that was no small thing for a dragon to give to someone who was decidedly not also a dragon.

After a minute or so, Ember then slowly opened her eyes and raised her head slightly to look around the scepter and regard Thorax again. “May your travels to the beyond be safe and fruitful,” she murmured aloud respectively. She then relaxed and let the scepter fall to her side, breathing another sigh. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, long enough for Spike to wonder in surprise if the dragoness was holding back tears. If she was though, she managed to clear them away without shedding them, because when she opened her eyes again, they were clear and composed. Turning her attention to Spike now, she calmly approached where he sat against one side of the room and knelt down before him so to be on his eye level. “Are you doing okay?” she asked in a surprisingly soft and gentle tone that Spike had again never heard or seen Ember use before.

Spike looked at her and her earnest desire to assist for a moment, and suddenly found himself moved to tears again by her graciousness. Yet ashamed by the hot tears leaking from his eyes, he bowed his head in an attempt to hide them and silently shook his head no.

Ember sighed sadly at this. “I can’t blame you,” she admitted, hanging her head. “I’m sorry, Spike…I’ve failed the both of you.”

Spike looked at her incredulously. “You? Failed?” he repeated, not understanding.

“Spike, when I came aboard your airship and joined sides with you and Thorax, I did so promising that I would protect both of you and keep you safe.” Ember turned her head to look back at Thorax’s body. “But clearly, I wasn’t able to keep that promise.”

“Oh, Ember, no,” Spike said, shaking his head sadly, refusing to accept that. “You did far more than either of us could have ever asked or expected of you.” He reached out and placed a claw on the dragon lord’s shoulder. “We both owe you a great deal for that.”

Ember shook her head sadly and plopped down onto her rear, sitting on the floor next to Spike. “I’d entirely give that debt up in a heartbeat if it meant it’d bring him back,” she stated seriously.

“I know the feeling.” Spike shook his head too, and after a momentary pause, he heaved a great, sad, sigh. “If anyone’s failed Thorax, it was me,” he pressed. “Everything I did these past four moons, it was to…” he gazed sadly at Thorax’s body, feeling the crushing wave of despair and disbelief that his friend was truly gone starting to flood his body again, but fought to remain his composure at least long enough to finish the statement. “…avoid this.”

Ember closed her eyes sadly. For a brief second she had them squeezed tightly shut as if fighting to maintain her own composure, and Spike yet again found himself stunned just how close to the verge of weeping Ember was, and as she wasn’t one to be emotional like this at all, the fact she was moved so was shocking and almost chilling for Spike. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Spike,” she stated firmly, enough that Spike took it to be a command. “You played a pivotal role in all of this too, in that you helped ensure Thorax could even be in the position he was to make a difference…a role I hope you will be able to continue still, even after what’s happened.”

Spike, however, shook his head in denial. He nodded his head forlornly at his fallen friend before them. “Thorax was the real hero.”

Ember followed his gaze sadly. “He was more than a hero,” the dragoness relented. “Through one action, he did far more for our world as we know it than I suspect we can even realize right now. He may have died doing it…but from looking around at everyone’s reactions to what happened today, I can already see that what he did is sending changes through more than just his fellow changelings, enough that by the end of it, our world could be forever changed…I hope for the better.” She turned her gaze back onto Spike. “But what I’m getting at is that none of that likely would’ve happened, if you hadn’t been there to be the friend Thorax needed.” She averted her gaze a bit. “I know I’ve been very hard on you about being the dragon raised among ponies…but after what has happened today…I can’t help but think that maybe you growing up among the ponies was perhaps the best thing that could have ever happened for us all…because it gave you the strong and caring heart needed to do it…I just wish the ponies supported you more on that.”

With that heavy thought on both of their minds, the two dragons went silent for a long moment, together sitting on the floor and gazing sadly at the fallen changeling that had sacrificed himself for it. Ember then suddenly let her scepter fall from her grasp, letting it hit the floor with an unceremonious clunk. Spike’s attention drawn onto her, he watched as the dragoness again squeezed her eyes shut, fighting to maintain control of her composure. This time, however, she failed, and hot tears started to leak from her eyes against her will as she started to silently cry. Spike gazed at her for a second, taken aback, but ultimately sympathizing with Ember, he reached out a placed one hand on Ember’s shoulder in an unsure attempt of comforting her. Ember apparently decided that wasn’t enough for her though and abruptly snatched up the littler dragon, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close in a sudden bear hug while she continued to quietly cry.

Spike was again shocked by this, more so than before, as Ember had never been a fan of hugs in the whole time he had known her. But seeing these were certainly unusual times and both of them needed the comfort, Spike relented and proceeded to return the hug, trying to be the one to wear the strong face seeing that Ember couldn’t at the moment. Somewhat to his surprise, because he could feel his own grief threatening to surface too, he managed to do so, and waited until Ember had gotten her grief vented and out of her system enough. He didn’t have to wait long. Almost as if ashamed of herself, Ember quickly started to regain control of her tears, and after sniffling a few times, released Spike to wipe her eyes, then stood up, scooping up her scepter to hold once more. In all of a moment, she was standing at her full height over Spike like it had never happened.

They debated to themselves on what to say next. “Are you going to be okay?” Ember finally asked.

Spike glanced up at her seriously. “Are you?”

Ember ultimately didn’t reply. She took another mournful glance at Thorax’s body then silently decided it was time for her to leave, turning for the door. Spike watched her go, but he made no protest in her leaving, honestly still just surprised she had come to say and do as much as she had.

But before she exited the room, Ember paused for a moment in the doorway, debating to herself, then looked back at Thorax lying on the mossy bed once more. “You know, he was a brave for a changeling,” she said softly. “Braver than any dragon I have ever known.” Her eyes then turned to lock directly with Spike’s. “Except for one.”

She then turned and left the room without elaborating on whom, but she didn’t need to. Spike understood who she meant. He didn’t feel the least bit worthy of that claim though, but he made no attempt to deny or protest it in the slightest. Instead, he chose to cherish that rare display of emotion from the dragoness, that somehow meaning far more to him.

The steady flow of reformed changelings resumed as Ember left, but after talking with the dragoness, Spike found he couldn’t focus on the changelings and their words of sympathy as much, lost in thought about what Ember had said and what she meant by it. In reviewing the conversation back in his head, it seemed Ember still thought good could come from this tragedy, despite how much Thorax’s death had pained her as well. It was impossible for Spike to share in that enthusiasm at the moment though. Certainly, he could see the good in the changelings undergoing their reformation, their “Enlightenment” as they called it, but for Spike, the price it had come at with Thorax’s death was one he hadn’t been willing to pay. Thorax was his greatest companion and ally after all, and Spike dearly wished he hadn’t needed to die at all.

The changelings continued filing in to pay their respects for some minutes after Ember’s visit, and Spike believed she was going to be the only non-changeling to do so. He at least couldn’t see a reason why others would be inclined to come and pay their respects at least, not when they weren’t nearly as close to Thorax in comparison. With this expectation in mind, he was not paying too close attention to those filing in and out of the door to the room, more focused on gazing upon Thorax and quietly mourning to himself.

Because of this, when the latest visitor timidly stepped through the doorway, Spike was not looking to see who it was and assumed it was yet another changeling wishing to say well-meaning but increasingly empty-feeling words of comfort. So he didn’t take note of who it was until he heard the visitor’s familiar voice softly address him. “Spike.”

Surprised, Spike twisted around at last to look at the butter-yellow pegasus mare standing in the doorway. “Fluttershy,” he murmured. “I…I didn’t think…” he trailed off, unable to find the right way to voice his thoughts at her unexpected appearance.

Fluttershy, somewhat disheveled still and her pink mane matted from her time in a cocoon, didn’t seem to mind this, as, having gotten Spike’s attention, she proceeded to walk into the room. Though she couldn’t seem to keep her gaze on Spike for long, continuously averting it every few seconds, the dragon could see in her eyes that her mind was awhirl with thought and no doubt trying to piece together what to say herself. But the more she looked from Spike to Thorax’s body on the mossy bed, the more distressed she appeared to get, clearly distraught. Finally, as she neared where Spike sat, her emotions got the better of her and, tearing up, she closed the remaining gap between them at a gallop and seized Spike in a tight hug, weeping without restraint.

“I’m sorry!” she gasped out through her weeping. “I’m sorry!”

“Fluttershy…” Spike started to object, but seeing her weep stirred up the intense emotions boiling within him enough to spill over and further conversation was cut off as he quickly joined the weeping, pressing his face into Fluttershy’s chest as he cried.

They spent the next several minutes in each other’s grasps, intensely shedding tears so to express their grief for the loss of Thorax. It seemed to be the best way for them to vent their sadness at the moment, something that simply needed to be done and out of the way first before either could consider proceeding. Nonetheless, Spike, having already shed plenty of tears for Thorax already that afternoon, finished with his weeping first, but sadly remained where he was so to allow Fluttershy the time she needed to finish and slowly start to recompose herself. Even when she had done so, she kept holding Spike close, sadly and blankly gazing past Spike and at Thorax.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she finally repeated once more, but this time actually getting further into the thought. “I should’ve done something sooner…if I had done so…maybe Thorax…Thorax…” she let out a sob as she struggled to bring herself to say it aloud.

“You couldn’t have done anything to prevent it though,” Spike chose that moment to remind her, his voice catching slightly and coming out as a sort of croak. “You were still in a cocoon and—”

“No, no,” Fluttershy interrupted, squeezing her eyes shut as she shook her head. “You don’t understand, I mean before all of that. I knew for moons that you and Thorax weren’t what the others were saying ever since I helped treat Thorax’s illness, but…but I didn’t say anything to the others about it, not until Twilight had already found you herself…if I had just been braver and spoken up for you two right away, stood up to defend you…”

“Fluttershy, you did precisely what I had hoped you would do at the time and kept quiet,” Spike interrupted back, pressing his own eyes shut as he gave her a comforting squeeze, trying to reassure of her actions. “If you hadn’t, you may have only brought Twilight down upon us that much sooner. Instead, you gave us two more moons to be together and friends…and even though I wish I could’ve had many more than that with him…I’m still glad I at least got that much. I wouldn’t want that taken away from me, Fluttershy. Please…don’t blame yourself for that, because there’s nothing to blame. You did what you thought was right, and so did I, in circumstances that were far from ideal. That was enough.”

“But it wasn’t,” Fluttershy persisted, still shaking her head. “No one should’ve died at all.”

“No,” Spike readily agreed. “No one should’ve.” He gave her another friendly squeeze as tears threatened to stream from his eyes again. “But you and I both know that there’s no point discussing it now, because it’s already done.” His attempts to hold back the new onslaught of tears failed and they started to drip from his shut eyes, his voice cracking. “Thorax is gone.”

Fluttershy was quiet for a moment, suddenly composed as she let Spike shed a few more tears. “He shouldn’t be,” she whispered at last.

“I know,” Spike agreed. “Believe me, I know.”

Fluttershy seemed to calm down a little, but she still didn’t seem reassured. “I still should’ve done more,” she persisted. “By doing nothing…I was failing to show trust in myself, in my friends, and worse of all, in you and Thorax, and…” her eyes squeezed shut again, her head shaking as she forced herself to keep from breaking down into tears again. “…and if I had just done so in the first place, then everything could’ve been different.”

“If you had done so,” Spike again reminded firmly, “Twilight would’ve only—”

“Spike, she could’ve still seen the truth,” Fluttershy interrupted, suddenly pulling back so to hold Spike in front of her and look him seriously in the eye. “I know she could’ve. And now after everything that’s happened, Twilight…she’s…”

“No…NO!” Spike declared, cutting her short as he ripped himself away from her, suddenly angry. “I don’t want to hear it from you.” He turned away and paced around aimlessly as he struggled to decide what to do next while Fluttershy sat and sadly watched him for a moment. At last, Spike stopped beside the wall of the room and leaned against it with both sets of claws, hanging his head. “If Twilight has something to say, she can come in here and say it herself.” He stood there breathing heavily for a moment, then upon thinking about it, glanced back at Fluttershy. “Is she coming here?”

Fluttershy hesitated, clearly uncertain. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “At least…I don’t think I’ve seen her out there.” She motioned a hoof back at the doorway to the room, outside of which Spike was now certain a line of changelings a mile long were waiting for their chance to enter. “But…there’re so many wanting to…to…” she hesitated again and eventually chose to cut to her chief point, “…she could easily be out there waiting for her turn too…I certainly hope she is, at least.”

Spike took his gaze off of Fluttershy and back on the wall he was leaning against. He didn’t comment on the matter, but his body language still made his thoughts clear.

Fluttershy couldn’t help but notice. “Spike, I know you don’t trust her right now, and have been given every reason not to,” she relented softly in her usual gentle tone. “But…she should still have the chance to at least speak…shouldn’t she?”

Spike was quiet for a moment, taking in deep breaths as he tried to keep himself calm. “It depends on what it is she says,” he concluded.

This didn’t seem like the answer Fluttershy wanted to hear, but she knew better than to try and press the matter and she respectively backed off. Instead, her attention left Spike and focused on Thorax, viewing the changeling’s body sadly. “Why didn’t he change too?” she asked aloud suddenly, observing the dead changeling’s body still bearing the classic traits of changelings of old, before the transformation. “Like the others?”

Spike shrugged half-heartedly. He had already run through several possible answers to this question his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted sadly. “Maybe…maybe he had already gotten too weak by that point to be able to.” He squeezed his eyes shut and let his head sink lower in dismay. “All I know is he just didn’t.”

Fluttershy turned her gaze back to Thorax. Respectively, she bowed her head. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the chance to share in the experience like the rest of the changelings, Thorax,” she murmured aloud. She then glanced back at Spike and rose, trotting closer to him, placing one hoof on his shoulder. “And I am truly sorry you have to be put through this, Spike…I can’t imagine how much this is hurting you.”

“Please don’t,” Spike said, placing his claws over the mare’s yellow hoof. “Trust me…you don’t want to know.”

Fluttershy took a deep, steading breath. “If you need anything…” she began.

“What I need, Fluttershy, I can’t have,” Spike replied, cutting her short as he sadly turned to face her. “But for everything else…I…I just need some time…to try and figure this out.”

Fluttershy was quiet for a moment. “The offer still stands,” she reiterated. “If you need anything…I’ll be happy to try and help to the best of my abilities.”

Spike looked at her for a moment then gave her an appreciative hug which she readily returned. “Thank you, Fluttershy,” he said simply.

Fluttershy nodded, then, giving Spike and Thorax one last mournful glance, she turned and slowly stepped out of the room. After she left, the familiar flow of changelings resumed. As before, Spike humored them while he mulled upon Fluttershy’s offer. He knew it was both courteous and one he probably should take her up on. But it seemed like doing so was admitting defeat, only speeding up this closing chapter of his time with Thorax. And Spike knew he wasn’t yet ready for that.

He settled in for what he expected would be another long stretch of visiting changelings, but actually the stream was notably shorter this time before it was broken once again by another familiar face, this time in the form of Applejack. Like Fluttershy and Ember before her, Applejack still bore the grime of a cocoon and sorting through rubble. But as was always the case, the apple farmer wasn’t about to let grime slow her down and she proudly wore her trademark Stetson hat upon her head as she always did, the hat somehow defying the trend by appearing completely unscathed from the experience. She stepped into the room looking very composed, but still sullen, like she was only just ready enough to face the unpleasant duty awaiting her.

She moved first to approach Thorax’s body upon the mossy bed, but as she did so, she locked eyes with Spike. “Hey,” she greeted softly, almost without feeling.

“Hey,” Spike echoed back, unable to think of anything else meaningful to say at the moment.

“It’s been awhile since Ah’ve laid eye on ya last,” Applejack pointed out as she arrived at the side of Thorax’s bed, her eyes still on the little dragon. “Ah hope that ain’t gunna continue ta be a trend though, not after all of this.”

Spike only averted his gaze and didn’t reply. He didn’t really know what the future held for either of them.

Applejack took this as her cue to change the subject and refocused her attention on Thorax before her. Sighing, she respectively removed her hat, holding it before her. “Thank ya, fer all ya did savin’ our lives,” she murmured aloud to Thorax. “We didn’t git ta see much of each other…but Ah’ve been hearin’ plenty of good things ’bout ya lately…Ah’m sorry we ain’t gonna git the chance ta meet proper-like. And Ah’m sorry we didn’t give ya the chance at friendship ya deserved…Ah wish it didn’t have ta end like this.”

Applejack then fell silent, looking like she had run out of things to say and simply remained seated where she was, looking at Thorax. As she did so, Spike watched, mulling upon her words. It wasn’t lost upon him that it sounded like Applejack regretted her role in rejecting Thorax along with the others. A small part of Spike was pleased to see that…but most of the rest of him knew it was also too little too late. Such a development should’ve been made well before now, when Thorax was still alive to hear it for himself.

Despite that, Spike found he couldn’t hold much against Applejack. As he studied her, he was particularly struck by how well she was keeping a straight face in light of this tragedy. But he also knew that Applejack was famed for being one who “cried on the inside.” Spike never really understood much what that meant, but now that he was looking at her, he could just make out in those green eyes of hers a deep sadness greatly defying her collected outward appearance. She was concealing it for whatever reason—pride, sympathy, whatever—but inside of her right now was a very distraught mare, weeping her eyes out someplace where the world couldn’t stand and ogle at it. For a moment, Spike almost envied that ability.

Finally, Applejack heaved a great sigh and turned her attention onto Spike, moving to approach him. “Ah’m deeply sorry, Spike,” she said. “This ain’t the least bit fair fer ya.”

Spike licked his dry lips as he averted her gaze, looking down at his feet. “No offense, Applejack,” he began softly, “but right now that’s got to be the greatest understatement I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Applejack was unfazed by Spike’s response. “Look, if Ah could actually do anythin’ ta change it…”

“But you can’t,” Spike said, his head snapping up suddenly to shoot her a glare. “I know. I’ve already heard that a thousand times already, and frankly…” he shook his head sadly, “…I’m getting sick of hearing it.” He blinked his eyes a few times, feeling his tears threatening to return, something else he was getting sick of. “I just…I can’t deal with it, Applejack, I just…I just…” he squeezed his eyes shut and turned in his seat, facing away from her, “…how can I possibly be expected to cope with this? How could this…this…pain…ever go away?”

Applejack looked at him long and hard. “It doesn’t.”

Spike shot her a look. “And how would you know?” he snapped without thinking, the words out of his mouth before he even realized it.

Applejack’s gaze instantly turned cold and distant. “Ya should know darn well how,” she replied sternly. “Ya ain’t the only one here who’s lost someone close ta them before.”

Spike closed his eyes again, realizing what she was getting at and hung his head, ashamed. “You’re right, of course,” he admitted, having forgotten briefly Applejack and her family’s often unspoken past. “I’m sorry, I just…I wasn’t thinking.” He paused, expecting Applejack to berate him for his insensitivity, but instead Applejack only gave him a sympathizing look, silently understanding. He sighed. “How do you deal with the pain, then?” he asked finally, softly. “How do you get past it?”

Applejack didn’t answer for a long moment, but Spike could see the flickers of emotions in the farm pony’s eyes. “Like Ah said…ya don’t,” the tan mare finally responded. “It just sort of…becomes a part of ya after a while. Part of wut makes ya who ya are. Makes ya stronger, in some ways. In others…Ah guess it humbles ya. Keeps ya aware that ya ain’t almighty. That everythin’ has an end.” She rubbed two of her forelegs together awkwardly for a moment. “Ah really am sorry though, Spike,” she repeated, and with strong meaning. This time Spike believed her. “None of this should’ve happened, but it has. We messed up. Now we’re payin’ the consequences.”

“Darn straight you are,” Spike couldn’t help but grumble, folding his arms.

“If it helps, Ah ain’t the only one who’s gittin’ that now,” Applejack assured, taking another step towards Spike until she was standing directly before him. “Ah admit, Ah can’t say where they’re all standin’ exactly on this, but…the other girls, Rainbow, Pinkie, and the rest…they sure ain’t treatin’ the loss of Thorax lightly. They’re just…all handlin’ it in their respective ways…gotta figure out first how ta proceed on their own.” She raised a hoof and placed it on Spike’s shoulder. “Rainbow wuz gunna come with me fer this, y’know, comin’ ta see Thorax…but she changed her mind partway here.” Seeing Spike’s expression droop a little at this, she quickly continued, explaining, “Ya gotta keep in mind…this ain’t the sort of thing Rainbow does well in. She ain’t one who likes wearing her emotions on the side of her fetlock fer all ta see, doesn’t like it when she ain’t in control of wut she’s feelin’…she wants ta come and pay her respects, but…she ain’t confident she can keep it together enough fer her likin’ ta do so. Don’t take it personally though, she don’t mean disrespect ta ya or Thorax…she’s upset about this just as much as Ah am, and she’s worried ’bout ya just like all the rest of us.” She managed to give Spike a small grin of minor encouragement. “Ya’ll see…she’ll be in here ta do it soon enough…Ah think they all will.”

“Fluttershy already has been,” Spike pointed out suddenly.

This made Applejack’s grin grow a bit more, pleased to hear that. “Ain’t too surprised…y’know, after everythin’ that went down in Vanhoover, Fluttershy was the one who first started speakin’ up fer ya and Thorax, the first ta set the example fer the rest of us an’ challenge that wut we were doin’ an’ how we were approachin’ things was…well…plum wrong. She’s been very passionate ’bout that, and it, uh, helped to start gittin’ us swayin’ ’round ta yer side. If any of us gits just who Thorax wuz and wut we’ve lost with him dyin’…it’s that gal right there.” Applejack moved her hoof under Spike’s chin so to raise it a little. “Ah hope ya weren’t cross ta her.”

Spike averted his gaze and shook his head. “Hardly,” he admitted with a sigh. “I have no qualms with Fluttershy…or you, really, for that matter…or most of anyone I guess.” He closed his eyes. “I just deeply miss my friend, Applejack…and I’ve barely been without him for a mere few hours now. I just can’t picture the fact that…he’s gone forever.”

“Aw, sugarcube,” Applejack said, pulling him closer in a comforting one-hooved hug. “I know. He shouldn’t have died at all. But…Ah can’t change wut happened. Ah dearly wish Ah could, but Ah can’t. And Ah know ya’ve been hearin’ that a lot already but…dang it, it’s just true. But while it seems like life’s kickin’ ya while yer down right now…it don’t mean it’s gunna keep doin’ so. After all when ya hit bottom, sugarcube…the only place left ta go is up. And Ah know…it seems impossible right now after losin’ someone as close ta ya as Thorax…Ah git that and Ah don’t mean ta cheapen that any…but if yer really gonna git past this Spike…ya need ta keep in mind that this doesn’t have ta be the end fer you too. There’s still gunna be places ya can go and do, even after…this.”

The two fell quiet for a moment.

“Are ya gunna be okay?” Applejack asked after a moment.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Spike admitted in reply.

“Well…Ah know none of us where there fer ya before when we should’ve, and that’s on us, and Ah’m greatly sorry fer it somethin’ fierce…but we’re here fer ya now. If ya need ta talk, or…just anythin’ at all…we’re rarin’ ta help. All of us. Especially me.” Applejack looked him in the eye again. “If ya need ta talk or anythin’…even if it’s just ta vent…Ah’m willin’ ta listen.”

Spike took a deep breath and pulled away from the farmer, gently. “I don’t think I could do that to you, Applejack,” he admitted. “Me venting won’t…end well, so…I’d rather save it for someone who deserves it…and you’re not the one.”

He went silent for a moment. Applejack sat and watched him, letting him be.

“Where’s Twilight?” he asked suddenly.

“Ah don’t rightly know this exact moment,” Applejack admitted. “But ya can bet yer tail that she’s gonna be comin’ ta see ya soon too, Spike.” She paused, giving Spike a chance to respond, trying to gauge his reaction. He didn’t give much of one, but guessing why he asked, she pressed on. “She’s still deeply missed ya, y’know, despite everythin’.” Her gaze saddened slightly. “Have you?”

Spike didn’t reply for a moment, and when he did, it wasn’t to answer the question. “I’m not sure I want her coming,” he said at last.

Applejack straightened. “Ah’m sorry ta hear that,” she said, “she can’t try ta fix wut she did if ya won’t give her the chance to.”

Spike scowled. “What makes you think this can actually be fixed?”

Applejack’s response was immediate. “Wut makes ya think it can’t?”

But otherwise she made no further attempt to try and talk Spike out of that view. Further seeing that the conversation was drying up and feeling she was beginning to overstay her welcome, she rose to her hooves, returned her hat to her head, and turned to go. “Look…there’s a lot of others out there wantin’ their turns at this, and Ah don’t want ta keep ‘em waitin’…ya okay with me goin’?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Spike said with a distracted nod, turning to resume his customary position of gazing at Thorax’s fallen form. “But…thank you for coming Applejack…I do appreciate it.”

Applejack took a deep breath. “Ah meant wut Ah said…if ya want ta talk at any time, night or day…Ah’m more than happy ta lend a listenin’ ear.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to take you up on that offer anytime soon, Applejack,” Spike admitted. “But I’ll keep that in mind nonetheless.”

“That’s all Ah ask.” She gave the dragon one last look over. “Be strong, Spike,” she finally murmured in conclusion. “It’ll still hurt, and Ah can’t do anythin’ to change that…but ya’ll still push through okay. Ah just know ya will.”

And with that vote of confidence, she walked out the door and was gone. The flow of changelings resuming in her stead wasn’t long before it was broken once more and this time Spike was visited by two non-changelings at the same time, Starlight Glimmer and Trixie. Both entered the room slowly and in no hurry, but both were clearly and deeply distressed by Thorax’s passing. Starlight, still with dried flecks of Thorax’s blood in her fur, was doing the better of the two, keeping herself fairly steady and composed…but only just. The sadness was so clear on her face that Spike genuinely wasn’t sure how her eyes weren’t flooded with tears at the moment. But it seemed Starlight was keeping herself that way purely out of force of will, determined that if someone needed to be the calm and collected one in this room, it might as well be her.

Trixie, by contrast, was actually the one who wasn’t composed at all, clearly devastated by Thorax’s death and could be heard openly weeping before she had even appeared in the doorway. Spike knew ponies who could publicly cry gracefully, in a sort of picturesque kind of way, but Trixie was not one of those ponies. Her sobbing was very noisy and she was in a mess of a state as a result, not helping with the mess she had already been left in after getting pulled out of a cocoon earlier. In fact, she was so distraught that she had to be led into the room by Starlight, taking Trixie’s weight as the azure unicorn leaned heavily on her friend, so much so that at first Spike briefly worried Trixie had somehow gotten herself hurt before realizing she was instead just crippled with grief. He could relate, and it wasn’t lost on him that of everyone who had come to pay their respects to Thorax, Trixie was probably the one who knew as well as he, if not even more so, just how stunningly painful it was to be losing the changeling like this.

Like others who had come to visit, Starlight and Trixie first focused their attention on Thorax, stepping up to the mossy bed he lay upon. Seeing the changeling like this up close only caused Trixie to redouble her weeping and left her virtually unable to speak clearly more than a few words at a time…and even that was difficult for her. Instead, Starlight was left to do most of the talking, briefly pausing a few times whenever Trixie would, through her tears, butt in with a word of agreement. As for what Starlight said, it was much the same sort of thing Spike had been hearing the whole time—an apology for Thorax having to die, wishing there had been some way to prevent it or change what happened, and promises to not let such events play out like this again, instead seeking to do better and try and follow the example Thorax had attempted to set during his life. To Starlight’s credit though, it seemed clear to her that this was woefully inadequate and hated that she was unable to do better, even though not even Spike knew what that could be.

At the conclusion of their remarks, Trixie was left even more distraught than before, to the point that Spike dearly wished he could do something to comfort her, even though she was probably wishing to do the same for him. He couldn’t bring himself to try either way. As she stood there viewing Thorax’s body, the poor mare seemed torn between either keeping a respectable distance and not doing anything to disturb Thorax’s body, or forgoing the precedents by just surrendering to temptation and throwing herself upon Thorax to wail her miseries aloud. Of the latter, Spike was actually rather torn on whether or not he wanted her to do it, because on one side, he didn’t want her to have to withhold expressing her misery like this, but at the same time feared that if she did, he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from running over and joining in.

For now, she seemed to be keeping herself restrained. But seeing she clearly needed a moment, Starlight ensured Trixie was going to be okay for a moment without her there to physically support her, then she silently looked Thorax over again before squeezing her eyes shut, trying to hold back tears. Finally, she turned to face where Spike sat. He looked back at her expectantly, but though Starlight clearly wanted to say something, she was at a loss for the right words, her mouth opening and closing several times as she despondently sought for the right thing to say.

“I’m sorry, Spike,” she concluded finally, waving one hoof half-heartedly in the process, making it clear that this was all she really could say. “So deeply sorry.”

Spike lowered his gaze, heaving a sigh. He closed his eyes as he felt his tears threaten to pool into them again. “I know,” he replied softly. “But if apologies were miracles…we wouldn’t be here talking about it.”

Starlight snorted and shook her head in dismay. “In all honestly, we really shouldn’t have to be,” she stated in sudden frustration. It was short lived though as her sadness quickly returned and she turned her head to gaze back at Thorax. “This is my fault,” she went on to murmur. “I was the one who put the idea in Chrysalis’s head. If only I had…”

“No, no, don’t do that to yourself, Starlight, please,” Spike quickly interrupted, rising to his feet and closing the distance between himself and the unicorn. “It’s not your fault…what happened in there was out of your control…out of the control of all of us.”

“That doesn’t make it right, Spike,” Starlight persisted, not backing down from berating herself. “I could’ve done more…I should’ve done more…it never should have had to come to this.”

“No, it shouldn’t have, but Starlight, I don’t blame you for one second for that,” Spike stressed. He tugged on her leg, getting her to turn her head back to face him. “You did everything you could. I know that. You know that. You were simply trying to help save everyone through whatever means you could and you couldn’t have predicted what happened, or, I fear, done anything to stop it at that point.” He wrapped his arms around her legs and gave her a hug, sadly closing his eyes shut. “And what you did do…I still appreciate deeply.”

Starlight looked down at the little dragon for a moment, making no motion to return the hug. “How?” she finally asked in something of a whisper. “Thorax still died. Chrysalis got away.”

“But you helped save the others,” Spike pointed out, tilting his head upwards so to look at her. “More changelings than I can count have reformed. I keep hearing that not all of them have yet, but thus far I haven’t seen any sign of it.” He paused, averting his gaze for a second. “You also gave Chrysalis a chance to change.” He returned it looking back at up her. “Why did you do that?”

Starlight hung her head for a second, shrugging. “I don’t know,” she admitted, sounding like she really didn’t. “Maybe it was because I didn’t know Thorax had…died…yet, and that meant she had killed him, but…” she shrugged again, “…I didn’t even really think about it. I just…sort of acted, and that was what came out of my mouth.” She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut in frustration. “But what difference did it make, Spike? She didn’t take that chance.”

“No, but you still gave it to her, when no one else would’ve,” Spike pointed out. Turning sadder, he glanced at his fallen friend. “Unlike Thorax, who never got such a chance, even though he was far more deserving of it.” Sniffling slightly as he worked to keep his emotions in check, Spike returned his gaze to Starlight. “I heard what you told Chrysalis when you gave her that chance…and what you said about Thorax when you were defending him to Chrysalis before that. The fact you went out of the way to do that and stand up for them, give them that chance to be better, when no one asked you to or had to do it at all…Starlight, that alone redeems you in my eyes.” He pressed his head against her legs and gave them another squeeze. “You get it now. You get what he was all about.”

Starlight gazed down at Spike for a long moment, pulling free one of her hooves so to pat him on the back. “Yeah,” she admitted. “I get it all right.” She gazed back at Thorax’s fallen form. “I just wish it could’ve done more for him.”

“So do I,” Spike whispered, squeezing her remaining leg harder as he started to tear up.

Starlight let him do so for a moment, breathing deep so to try and keep her own emotions reeled in. She then dropped down so to be on the same eye level as the littler dragon. “Look, Spike…I’m glad you’re still on good terms with me after all of this, but it’s not me that I’m worried about right now. What about the others?”

Spike averted his gaze for a moment. “I don’t know, I guess it depends on who it is,” he admitted. “Some I can’t blame at all for what happened, especially after they’ve come in here to pay their respects to Thorax like you and Trixie have.” He then frowned, his expression darkening. “But…there are still some I very much blame.”

Starlight had a few good hunches as to who. “Look, about the others,” she began. “After…all of this, I’ve taken the time to speak a little with a few of them, and yeah, I can’t vouch entirely for them and I deeply apologize for all the wrongs you feel they have done to you, many of which I agree weren’t justified…but you need to know…they’ve been moved by everything that has happened too…and they’re starting to see things in an entirely new, and better, light.”

“I know,” Spike assured her softly, but was still unable to meet her gaze. “I’ve already heard.”

“They’re just still coming to terms with it, Spike,” Starlight went on. “Please give them time to do so. When they’re ready, they’re going to come to you and talk to you about it, and you need to at least let them have that chance before you pass final judgment.” She turned her gaze back at the fallen changeling. “I think you owe it to Thorax for doing that. I mean…that was what this was all about, wasn’t it? You sided with Thorax, because no one else was willing to let him speak his part. Don’t make that same mistake we did, no matter how angry you are. You’re better than that, I know you are.” Spike didn’t respond for a long moment, falling quiet so to play with his claws, leading Starlight to look him over, trying to determine what he was thinking. “Do you have anything more you want to say, Spike?” she asked, sensing that he did.

Spike bit his lip for a second, then nodded his head. “Should that really include Twilight?”

Starlight was a little taken aback by the bluntness of the question, but then quickly reminded herself why and averted her gaze, ashamed. “I’ll be honest, Spike,” she admitted. “I have no idea where Twilight stands on this exactly.” She glanced back at him. “But I also know her well enough to know she’s not going to let it lie unresolved. She will be coming to try and speak to you about what happened, sooner rather than later.” Starlight tilted her head at Spike. “Will you let her?”

Spike didn’t answer for a very long moment, pulling away from Starlight and turning away as he stared glumly at his feet.

“Spike?” Starlight prompted as that silence dragged on. “Are you going to answer?”

Spike still took a long moment to decide if he would or not. “No,” he finally replied.

He didn’t specify to which question he was answering exactly, leaving it open for it to be either one. But Starlight knew which one it was anyway.

Any further comment was cut off however, when Trixie, who’s noisy mourning in the background had faded in volume until now, came galloping over and pounced on Spike with a massive bear hug. “I’m sorry!” she wailed to the dragon in a croaky voice, still in tears. “I’m so sorry!” She tried to go on speaking, but had devolved into weeping so thoroughly that she couldn’t seem to finish any sentence she spoke in full. It didn’t help that her focus was torn between continuing to mourn for Thorax directly and trying to comfort Spike. Eventually, she ended up doing an odd blend of both.

Spike couldn’t help but take pity on the poor mare, knowing she had lost someone deeply important to her too, and so the next several minutes were spent letting Trixie express her jumbled emotions, ranging from weeping, to venting, to just wailing her sorrow while Spike numbly listened and took it in. Starlight quietly fell into the role of trying to comfort the pair of them, but it was clear she could really use some comfort of her own that neither the dragon nor unicorn were in a position to give at the moment. It still all seemed to help Trixie though, because as she got the worse of her feelings out of her, she gradually started to calm down…though every time her gaze happened to look in the direction of Thorax, it all threatened to start back up again. Eventually it was Trixie herself who decided it was time to leave, saying that she saw that there was “little else productive that could be done” in staying here, and felt like she was being more bother than help to the other two, even though both quickly assured her that she was nothing of the such, Spike especially, who reminded her that he understood very well what griefs she was feeling because he was feeling them too.

Regardless, Trixie had made up her mind, and after a few final apologies and words of respect to both Spike and the deceased Thorax, the two mares exited the room again much like how they had entered, with a distraught Trixie leaning heavily on a sullen Starlight that was trying, and failing, to put on a brave face. And the flood of changelings coming to pay their respects resumed after that, continuing without breaking for another long stretch of time. Spike by now had long lost track of what time it was, not helped by the fact that sitting in a room this deep in the hive made it hard to have any idea what time it was outside. But he knew it had been hours since he had first walked into this room to sit protectively with Thorax’s body, and thus could safely assume that it had to be nearing evening now.

By this time, Spike was growing numb in general. Numb to the pain of his grief and numb to the words of sympathy everyone was giving him, trying to do something to make this loss easier to deal with. It wasn’t really working. Spike was still struggling to accept that the changeling’s body that lay on the mossy bed before him was all that remained of his friend, an empty shell left behind and thrown aside, like a pony throwing out an empty carton of milk. Even though everyone who stepped into the room showed the corpse the utmost of respect, fully aware of the great being they had come to recognize it had once contained, Spike still had to see it as the mere leftover that eventually had to be discarded. And no matter what, the ache he felt in his heart, missing his lost friend, was still almost unbearable. He was frankly amazed at himself that he had managed to last this long without breaking down worse than all the times before or going insane.

But he somehow managed, dealing with the pain for long enough now that it was starting to lose some of its edge, something that was both a blessing and a curse. On one side it was a relief to not have that digging into his soul so grievously, but on the other side, Spike still wanted it to be digging in like that—because then it felt like Thorax’s passing still meant something significant to him. Without it, he greatly feared the significance of what he lost today, and everything that had come with both good and bad, would go away. And that seemed like a horrible thing to let happen.

Finally, after some time of changelings coming to pay their respects, to the point that they had started to blur together again—which Spike was starting to feel bad about, as he knew these changelings all meant well—Rarity, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash all entered the room together as a trio. Pinkie entered the room with tears already leaking from her eyes, a startling sight for the otherwise eternally optimistic mare, and it seemed like her pink mane had lost some of its curl, not nearly to the point that it had gone entirely flat, but still enough to remember that it was never a good thing to see on Pinkie. Rarity was also watery-eyed as she entered, but per her norm, she still tried to enter with a bit of grace…albeit half-heartedly. Like nearly every pony else that had visited him, all three of them still showed slightly matted fur leftover from their time spent in cocoons, which wasn’t a surprise to Spike. What was surprising to him was that though there were signs Rarity had tried to clean herself up a little after being freed, she had still left herself in an uncharacteristic messy state. The events of the here and now seemed to be more important than her appearance, and as Spike knew that Rarity didn’t take ignoring her appearance lightly, the fact she had neglected it like this in favor of coming here to visit him and the fallen Thorax was moving for him.

Upon entering, Pinkie and Rarity both beelined straight for Spike and grabbing him up in a two-sided hug as they started to weep for the little dragon and his loss. As was usually seemed to be the case whenever seeing others weep for him like this, it led Spike to miserably shed a few tears too. Rainbow Dash, however, hovered in air around them aimlessly for a moment and looking very uncomfortable. She chose to leave the hugging and weeping to the other two mares and after a moment of indecision, possibly to make sure Spike was seen to, she instead turned her attention to Thorax, gently landing and seating herself beside the bed of moss he laid upon. She sat there for a long moment in silence, staring at the changeling before her as if trying to comprehend it. Spike watched her while Pinkie and Rarity fretted over him, wondering what Rainbow was going to do. The pegasus paid her respects in silence though, and it wasn’t long before her breathing started to accelerate, beginning to get emotional the longer she sat there. Spike hoped it was because she understood the price Thorax had paid in helping to rescue the likes of her.

If it was though, Rainbow never admitted as such aloud, though to be fair, she may just never thought to, more focused on trying to maintain her trademark cool demeanor and only rapidly failing. Finally starting to tear up after long moments of trying to fight it, Rainbow turned herself away, ashamed, but in the process noticed that Spike had been intently watching her and their eyes locked together. “I’m deeply sorry, Spike,” the mare managed to croak out before, about to break down entirely, she quickly galloped back out of the room, unable to publically bear with the grief any longer.

Spike watched her go, a little sorry Rainbow couldn’t have stayed longer. Rarity and Pinkie pulled their attention off of Spike long enough to do likewise, eyes following the cerulean pegasus as she speedily exited the room, and an awkward moment fell upon them, unsure how to respond or continue in light of Rainbow’s hasty departure.

“We’re sorry too, Spike,” Pinkie managed to murmur out, her voice unusually soft-spoken. “Real sorry…like…like…” she scrunched her face up in frustration. “I can’t even think of a good simile to compare it to, I’m that sorry.”

Spike managed a weak grin at this, believing that Pinkie meant it too.

“Oh dear, you are such a mess, you poor thing!” Rarity was meanwhile fretting, trying to rub off some of the dirt Spike had accumulated upon himself through the day’s events with one hoof.

“I’m okay, Rarity,” Spike assured her in an unfeeling tone.

“You are not okay, Spike,” Rarity reprimanded quickly as she continued to work. “You are quite obviously a disaster both physically and emotionally!”

“Fine, I’m not okay then,” Spike relented, not interested in arguing.

“Is there anything we can do to help, Spike?” Pinkie asked instead. “Something to…I don’t know…make you more comfortable?” Her moist baby blue eyes wandered over the room in search for inspiration on something she could suggest. Her gaze eventually fell upon the cool floor they sat upon. “Maybe some kind of cushion to sit on? I mean…this floor’s kinda hard…my bottom would fall asleep sitting on this for as long as you probably have…”

To the mild surprise of the two mares and Spike himself, he chuckled faintly at this, glad to see Pinkie’s quirkiness still remained intact. “A cushion would be nice,” he admitted slowly.

So Pinkie immediately pulled one out of her tail somehow and hoofed it over to Spike, who accepted it and made quick use of it. He had to admit that it did feel a lot more comfortable than sitting directly on the floor itself.

Both mares continued to fret over Spike for a few more moments. Unlike most of Spike’s other visitors, very little was said between them, in seeming acknowledgement that there was little more than could be said at this point. Eventually though, both mares conceded that they had all they could do for Spike in his grieving—the rest would have to be left up to him. So gradually, after making sure Spike was seen to the best they could, they both rose and moved to pay their respects to Thorax too. Pinkie could only repeat the same apology she had given Spike to the deceased changeling, but she made up for this verbal failure by quietly reaching into her mane and again impossibly pulled out a freshly cut stalk of purple hyacinth blossoms, which she then proceeded to gently tuck under Thorax’s forehooves crossed on his chest before stepping back, waiting for Rarity to finish.

Rarity seemed to debate to herself how to best convey her respects, sitting there for a moment quietly viewing Thorax’s body, but finally she bowed her head long enough to take in a deep breath before addressing the fallen changeling. “Thank you,” she said softly, “for everything you did to protect Spike,” then after a brief pause, amended, “for protecting all of us, really.” She then hesitated for another second before leaning over and tapping a gentle kiss on the changeling’s cheek as a show of her thanks.

The two mares lingered there for a moment longer, but then Pinkie mumbled something about “finding the others” and the two turned to leave again. Both gave Spike another remark of sympathy as they departed, but at the door, while Pinkie walked right on out of it without pausing, Rarity lingered there for a second longer, turning back to the dragon in mourning.

“Spike,” she began softly, “Really…if you need anything, you know you can come to myself or any of the others, correct? We still want to be there for you, if you will let us.”

“I know.” Spike didn’t continue further for a long moment. “Is Twilight coming?” he asked next.

Rarity nodded her head, the first to definitely confirm it. “I believe so,” she stated, sounding confident. She studied the dragon for a long moment, looking like she understood why he would ask. “What do you intend to say to her, Spike?”

Spike’s gaze turned distant as he mulled upon the question. “The truth, Rarity,” he replied simply.

Rarity gazed at him in dejectedly for a long moment. “Please try to stay strong, Spike,” she murmured. She averted her gaze, starting to turn to exit. “We’ve all lost too much today already.”

Spike made no reply as she exited, and he remained quiet as the next visitors, changelings again, entered the room. The minutes continued to pass by as visitors came and went paying their respects, but slowly the flow started to wind down, the next one to enter not always so immediately after the one before. This told Spike that, at long last, they were reaching the end of those who were coming to pay their respects. By this time it had been long enough that Spike was certain evening was coming upon them now. Even though the ambient lighting within the hive hadn’t seemed to have changed much, it still felt like to Spike that things within the hive had dimmed in some manner, reminding him of the evening time. He found he didn’t especially care, though. Evening, morning, afternoon…it could be any time at all, but all Spike was concerned about was deeply missing his changeling friend. For the first time, he really started to think about what he was going to do next in life and what life would be like without Thorax by his side.

Admittedly, he didn’t like the prospects before him much.

As the flow of visitors coming to pay their respects slowed to a trickle though, Spike was finally paid visit by someone he had actually been dreading would appear, his gaze immediately locking onto her as she timidly stepped into the room, lacking her normal commanding but respectful and gentle guise in favor of a far more sullen one, though she remembered her rank and attempted to remain professional regardless. The effort was lost on Spike, though.

“What are you doing here?” he asked Princess Celestia as she entered. His tone was utterly lacking in emotion, but for the first time, Spike felt his sadness replaced with a flare of disappointment in the tall mare and almost wanted to send her away immediately.

Even if he did though, he suspected Celestia planned to resist, and seemed more relieved she might not have to as Spike permitted her to approach Thorax’s resting spot. “I came to pay my respects, Spike,” she said softly. “May I proceed?”

Spike stared at her for a long moment. “Might as well,” he finally concluded and averted his gaze.

He heard Celestia suppress a sad sigh, but the permission given and Spike no longer focused on her, she shifted her attention to the deceased changeling lying before her. She was silent for a long moment, mulling over what to say. “I’m sorry,” she admitted finally to the changeling. “I’m sure I am far from the first to say so, but I am deeply sorry. You did not deserve this in the slightest, and…I am ashamed you had to be put in a position where sacrificing yourself for the rest of us so was the only way out. But I promise you…that sacrifice is not lost on me, or numerous others, and I intend to see to it that it is never forgotten…especially after all you managed to do to help your fellow changelings…see there is a better way.” She gazed at Thorax for a silent moment. “That gift you gave them is a grand one indeed…and I admit I never thought it could have been possible…but I am glad you believed in it so strongly, when I didn’t and should’ve, that you were willing to die for it. I just wish you didn’t have to…and that you and I could instead be here discussing the brighter future that is waiting ahead now.”

That said, the tall and white mare took a deep, steadying breath and turned back to the dragon, approaching him. “I’m sorry, Spike,” she murmured softly, placing one hoof on his shoulder.

Spike immediately shrugged it off. “It doesn’t change anything,” he reminded, refusing to look her in the eye.

The fact he was doing so pained Celestia, but she knew better than to try and protest it right now. “I know you’re not happy with me, Spike,” she continued as she lowered her hoof and instead seated herself beside him. “Honestly, I can’t blame you. I fear I have failed you.”

“You don’t have to fear anything,” Spike responded back with a snort. “You absolutely did fail me.” His gaze fell upon Thorax and turned deeply sad. “You failed us both.”

Celestia was quiet for a moment. “Spike, what I allowed happen to both of you was wrong,” she admitted straight up. “I will not deny that. What I’d like to do instead…is try and prove to you that I will do better in the future.” She paused, studying Spike and watching his reaction to this. When he gave little, she continued. “For the moment, above all, I want to make sure you’re still going to be okay after all of this.”

Spike didn’t respond right away. He still was refusing to make eye contact with Celestia. “I’d be doing better if I had Thorax with me again.”

Celestia sighed through her nose. “I know,” she said. “I didn’t want him to be taken away from you like this, Spike. I didn’t want him to be taken away at all.”

“Yes you did,” Spike murmured, not convinced. “Why else would you have taken the side of banishing him?”

Celestia averted her own gaze now, ashamed. “I was acting upon what information I was given and doing what seemed at the time to be the best decision based on that,” she explained simply. “But I didn’t stop to consider that I might not have been getting the whole story, or that the side I was getting could be incorrect.” She regarded Spike once more, her gaze suddenly serious. “I let my own fears of the changelings get the better of me, basically…and ultimately I made the wrong call because of it.” Getting frustrated that Spike still wouldn’t meet her gaze and feeling it was more important she ensured he had his attention, she reached out with one hoof and used it to lift his head and meet her in the eye. “But the second I realized my error and just how grave it was, Spike, I was doing the best I could to try and make it right again. If Chrysalis and her attempts to seize control of Equestria hadn’t gotten in the way…I’d like to think I would’ve succeeded in the end.”

Spike’s brow scowled and he shoved Celestia’s hoof away, averting his gaze once more. “Then why didn’t you respond to our letter after Twilight chased us out of Vanhoover, pleading for your help?” he demanded.

Celestia pulled back a little at this, and again the shame for her poor choices in judgment was clear. “I was trying to make this easier for everypony by trying to avoid it becoming more of a relations disaster than it already was,” she explained. “The easy choice was obviously agreeing to meet with you two pretty much exactly as you had suggested in your letter, of course…but I feared that, with the state of mind of…those involved…being what it was at the time, any such meeting would be met with much resistance and only create trouble from those that wished to act first and judge later, and not only was I fearing the political ramifications of this—” Spike snorted at that, but Celestia ignored it and pressed on, “—I felt that would be unfair for you and Thorax, nor help improve your very low views of us at the time. Dragon Lord Ember’s threat of war if Equestria attempted to get involved was especially worrying. So…I felt it best to first try and collect more evidence supporting your case from third-parties first, using that as evidence to justify such interactions and to encourage…those involved…to allow me to proceed, if not sway them to your cause. At which point I had hoped to discreetly locate where you and Thorax were at and then personally meet with you in secret, work out some sort of solution.”

“That never happened though,” Spike observed pointedly.

“No,” Celestia agreed. “And I will take the blame for that. I waited too long to act, not confident enough in the cause to show direct support in it immediately when I should have. Even though by then I had Luna shifting to support you from her own efforts in investigating, had word of Dragon Lord Ember’s disastrous attempts to seek peace, and had taken Twilight off the search due to believing she had misjudged and was acting recklessly. And when I did respond to your letter, in hopes of getting some clue to your whereabouts or to try and get Ember to allow me a chance to resolve this properly without the threat of war hanging over my head…I either got no response, or my response was unable to get through to you and was merely sent back to me, telling me I had missed my chance.”

Spike frowned to himself. “By then, we…or at least I did…thought you weren’t going to help, so…I had Thorax block my abilities to receive messages via firebreath again.” He realized inwardly that this was perhaps a critical error preventing Celestia from acting in their favor sooner and hung his head further, this time in mild shame. “I’m sorry…I just thought…”

“No, I won’t have that, Spike,” Celestia immediately interrupted, cutting short Spike’s attempt at an apology with the wave of her hoof. “The blame is still fully on me, not you, and I don’t want you thinking otherwise, please. If I had acted when I should’ve and responded immediately when I got your letter, I wouldn’t have given you the motive to do that.” Her gaze wandered back to Thorax. “And perhaps things would’ve been different.” Shifting her gaze back on Spike, she continued. “Regardless…I was looking for some other means of contacting you or proceeding from there when I was caught by Chrysalis’s changelings. My next reliable memory was of me waking up here at the hive…with what was done already done.”

Spike mulled upon this explanation to himself. “Starlight indicated you had sent a messenger to the Dragon Realms to try and contact us,” he remarked aloud, realizing Celestia hadn’t mentioned this.

“So I have been told already, but it was not I who gave the order. I assume it was instead given by Chrysalis or whatever changeling had replaced me in Canterlot, to further their own agendas.”

Spike recalled Julius, who had tried to attack them by posing as just such a messenger. “It would explain why that messenger proved to be an enemy changeling,” he muttered under his breath. He shook his head, feeling overwhelmed by how disastrous things had gotten. “How did this get so out of control?”

“Fear, Spike,” Celestia responded wisely, “and by failing to face those fears sooner.”

A heavy silence fell upon them, lightened slightly by that the two shared a moment of understanding. It was short-lived though, and soon Spike was back to bearing his disappointed attitude towards the princess of the sun. “So you’re the only royal that’s going to bother to even try and apologize, huh?” he asked with a small note of annoyance.

Celestia sighed at the return of this attitude, but feeling it still wasn’t unjustified, she didn’t object and instead moved to address the concern. “I’m sure Twilight at least will be coming soon, but otherwise I do apologize for the absence of Luna and Cadance,” she said, “though please don’t take it personally as it’s not out of malice. Cadance and Shining Armor are…feeling very ashamed of their roles in all of this, but they have chosen to keep their distance for now, under the impression that you would not be interested in seeing them right now.”

Spike was quiet for a moment. “They’re not wrong.”

Celestia was also quiet for a moment after that remark. “As for Luna,” she continued, choosing to not comment on Spike’s remark, “she dearly wished to come and pay her respects too, and asked me to send her deepest condolences for Thorax’s passing, but one of us was needed to return to Canterlot and ensure Chrysalis’s attempts to invade had indeed ended, everypony was safe, and the realm is secure.”

“And she volunteered?”

“No.” Celestia shifted awkwardly, knowing how this was going to sound, but she said it anyway. “…we actually drew straws.”

Spike nodded sarcastically to himself. “Lemme guess…you lost.”

But Celestia shook her head. “No, Luna did.”

Realizing that meant that the winner was the one who got to stay here and handle the aftermath of Thorax’s death, Spike felt a chill run down his spine for the implication that both princesses had wanted to stay. Disturbed by that though, he tried to shrug it off and turned himself away from Celestia as he continued to avoid eye contact with her. “Please get to the point of all of this already,” he murmured dejectedly.

Celestia sighed once again, seeing that Spike wasn’t interested in talking the matter out further and let down by it. “Very well,” she relented and drew herself up as she took on a more formal stance, looking again like the princess she was. “By order of the diarchy, high rulers of Equestria, I hereby exonerate the dragon Spike, the changeling Thorax, and all affiliated with them of any charges of wrong doing, criminal or otherwise, regardless of whether or not such charges are still pending at present time, and hereby rescind any orders of, imprisonment, banishment, or outcasting in or from any lands within that of Equestria that were or have been placed upon them.”

She then went on very formally announcing all of the usual political legalese that came with such an order as the law required of her, as well as taking the time to issue a formal apology on the behalf of Equestria as a country and praising Thorax and Spike’s characters for their roles in protecting Equestria, with giving extra notice towards Thorax on that matter considering the sacrifice he ultimately paid for it. Hearing all of this generated very mixed feelings in Spike, as on one side, this was long awaited and felt good to finally hear it be given, to have that weight of banishment and criminal charges off his back. But on the other, the fact it was coming posthumously for Thorax, the one who needed it the most, immensely soured the victory for Spike, and if anything, only saddened him further. Celestia noticed at one point the dragon shedding tears over this, but as she was still in the middle of finishing these formal announcements, she didn’t stop to comment on the matter. She later wished she did, because by the time she had finished, Spike had recomposed himself again and had turned distant, making it very apparent that he did not really wish to speak further.

Seeing there was little to be gained trying to force the conversation to continue then, the princess of the sun turned to leave, her head hung in dismay. Stepping into the doorway though, she paused and looked back at the dragon, still keeping his back to her. “Spike,” she said slowly, giving him a mournful gaze, “when she comes…try and show her mercy.”

Spike didn’t move to face her. “I can’t promise that,” he replied flatly and without emotion.

Celestia was quiet for a moment, wishing to not end the conversation like this. “What else can I do for you then, Spike?” she asked finally.

Spike kept his back turned to her as he considered the question for a second. “You could not let her come at all,” he replied pointedly. “Tell her I don’t want to see her.”

Celestia, however, knew better. “Yes you do,” she opposed knowingly in a soft voice, before she turned and exited the room without further remark.

After that, it seemed most of everyone who was going to come and pay their respects to Thorax had come, the visitors winding down dramatically to the point that long gaps between visitors were becoming more and more frequent. Spike was actually looking to it, feeling tired of communicating with others and just wanting to be left alone with Thorax now. It must have showed, because those remaining who did visit started to focus their attention on paying respects to Thorax than they did to Spike, who they at most gave passing looks of sympathy but otherwise kept a respective distance. Spike appreciated the motion and hoped it would last. But of course, it didn’t.

After an especially long gap between visitors, so much so that Spike took notice and started to think that had been the final one and no more were coming, he heard the timid hoofsteps of another visitor slowly come to stand in the doorway but proceeding no closer, as if afraid to. Spike had his back turned to the door and he made no attempt to change that, but he didn’t need to. He knew deep down who it was without even looking.

“I don’t want to do this, Twilight,” he warned aloud.

Twilight Sparkle made no motion to leave though, and instead was heard shuffling her hooves uncomfortably for a moment. “We need to talk, Spike.”

Spike felt his brow furrow into a scowl. “I have absolutely nothing to say to you,” he said, still not turning to face her.

“Please Spike,” Twilight pleaded, hearing her take a step, but only one, closer. “It’s been over four moons since I saw you last, four moons in which I spent most of it not even certain if you were alive or dead, it’s been so long that I…” she trailed off, as if sensing she was overstepping a boundary. “Please…we need to talk.”

Spike was quiet for a moment before deciding to relent, glancing at Thorax’s fallen form. “It’s because of you he’s dead.”

He could just picture Twilight’s face screwing up as she attempted to find something, anything, that enabled her to deny it. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do!” Spike shouted, stubbornly keeping his back turned to Twilight. “If you hadn’t pushed him away and instead trusted him and let him stay where he was, he would’ve been still alive, here as an ally, where he could’ve been in a position to see Chrysalis’s invasion plans coming and helped us prevent all of this! If you had opposed that banishment, we both know Cadance and Shining would’ve listened to you! But that didn’t happen, did it? You just had to banish him and ruin it all!”

“Spike, I was left in a terrible position back then, where I had to make some kind of call, good or bad, but I assure you, I tried…”

“Oh, don’t even—you didn’t try, you never tried!” Spike interrupted, cutting her short. “You didn’t even try to save his life! Don’t think I didn’t notice how you failed to join in with the others in trying to cast that healing spell on him!”

He could hear Twilight’s voice turn apologetic at this. “Spike…” she began softly, “…it wouldn’t have mattered. He was already gone by then.”

“You still should’ve tried,” Spike snarled, still without facing her. He shook his head to himself, flustered. “Look, if you’re coming here asking for forgiveness, you are not getting it. Not now. Not with him dead.” He shook his head to himself, hot emotions bubbling up and threatening to surface. “He was my dearest friend, Twilight. And your actions have gotten him killed.”

Twilight was quiet for a moment. He suspected she was processing this, trying to work out how to respond and defuse the argument. “Spike, at the time I didn’t know anything about him or his intentions, just that he was there and had showed up under seemingly suspicious circumstances that you have to see were not in his favor no matter what, and I, like all the others, had to think about the safety of the ponies of Equestria, so to try and protect the realm, and with the knowledge I had at the time…” she trailed off for a second. “…what did you expect me to do?”

“I expected you to trust me!” Spike bellowed, finally whipping around to face her, glowering at the purple mare standing in the doorway with all the fury her could muster. “To trust him! Sweet Celestia, Twilight, you’re the princess of friendship! It was literally your job to befriend him! But you didn’t! And now he is dead, and I! Blame! YOU!”

He stood there panting as he continued to glare at the alicorn. Twilight, to her credit, had pulled back a pace, intimidated by the intensity of Spike’s rage, but she still didn’t back down. She stood there for a moment, thinking through her options on how to delicately respond, hanging her head and licking her lips as she worked it out. “Spike, I understand you and the changeling were close,” she began slowly. “And yes, I have failed to acknowledge that. But Spike…you hadn’t left me much choice…if you had just heard me out and hadn’t been so quick and naïve to so blindly follow him, things—”

“GET OUT!” Spike roared, grabbing the nearest object, a loose hunk of changeling resin, and hurling it at Twilight. With a yelp, she attempted to duck it, but failed to react quickly enough, the clump still grazing one side of her head. She had no time to respond accordingly though as she had to continue to duck and dodge as Spike only proceeded to grab more objects and hurl them at her in rapid fire, bellowing at the top of his lungs all the while. “GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND, YOU WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND, AND I WILL NOT STAND HERE AND LET YOU INSULT HIS GOOD NAME SO JUST! GET! OOOOOOUUUUUUTTTT!”

The last object he hurled bounced out an empty doorway as Twilight had already long turned and fled, heard galloping on down the tunnel beyond in tears. Spike let out an animalistic roar of raw fury after her as he took several steps forward, as if meaning to give chase, but he had only managed to cross the room halfway when he collapsed to the ground, pounding his fists on the floor loudly for several moments before, pitifully curling into a small ball, his anger turned to sorrow and proceeded to weep bitter tears.

Author's Note:

In response to the reactions from last chapter, I want to assure that the perception I accidentally gave that this was all a last minute change to the story is not the case. In reality, I had planned for this event to take place in the story the whole time all of you have been getting to read it, so no, it was not something I rushed into nor didn't plan ahead for, and I did drop hints that this was coming throughout the story...though it appears they were too subtle as it seems readers either missed them or didn't take them seriously. I apologize to those who feel they need one.

That said, my plans for the story still have not changed. I got this far, I intend to see it through now regardless.

I also want to say that the matter of Twilight and Spike has only just begun, so do NOT take this as a resolution on that front just yet.

For those wondering why I have used this Synthorax fellow instead of Pharynx, there are a few reasons:

• I had already devised the character of Synthorax and made plans to use him well before I got word that Pharynx would be entering the picture.
• As such, I had already conceived of this scene using Synthorax instead of Pharynx and it would be difficult to change it now.
• Pharynx's tone also would not have fit the sort of tone I was looking for this scene, plus I knew Pharynx would be no more skittleling now and here in the story than he obviously would've been in canon, whereas I already had plans for Synthorax to be as such.
• I had already established in "Grief" that Thorax has more than one clutchmate, and as canon hasn't explicitly stated that Thorax does NOT have more than one sibling there either (indeed, the fact he felt obligated to differentiate Pharynx as his elder brother in "To Change a Changeling" almost supports that in my mind), I figured I would be excused on the supposed "grandfather clause."

Nonetheless, I took the time to mention Pharynx directly, and if I can find a way to do it, I might give him some sort of cameo before story's end...though I won't make promises, as it'll be a difficult thing to do at this point in the story.

Comments

[Earthpatriot117]

Oh my god this is it! It's HERE!!!
While I pray thorax will yet live, I don't believe it will happen. Whatever happens dude, it was a great joy reading this AWESOME story.

Now excuse me while I read past my bed time when i have a early morning shift at work. Lol

[Danger Noodle]

Shouldn't this story have a tragedy tag?

[KingJoltik]

This was so hard to read...like, I don't know what to think. I will say this, the moment with Twilight is way too short. I know the note said this is just the beginning, but its the shortest scene of the chapter...darn. Here's to waiting for another week.

[hattafan2593]

Sigh......Goddammit, Twilight.....

[Dark Monarch Sombra]

8598685
Seriously, what the hell's wrong with her? Is the author TRYING to make her as unlikable as possible? Is she so goddamn weak she can't acknowledge her own fault in the matter?

[Atrunia]

8598672
Honestly, I really hope he doesn't bring him back, I find reversing a character's death in this sort of story, a much more serious one, cheapens the death and sacrifice of the character.

[Johnny B Mediocre]

>still refers to Thorax as "the changeling"
>tries to be sympathetic yet still blames Spike for being "blind" and still is only thinking for herself even when Thorax is fucking dead
>still trying to defend her actions

i.imgur.com/Qh3PoQP.gif
31.media.tumblr.com/9081e0f9b7dffee70bc914f6ca64f9e5/tumblr_mzi3g2OHkb1spdfk7o1_250.gif
media1.tenor.com/images/25203f468539a13fbe5e077c3255af9f/tenor.gif?itemid=3495313
78.media.tumblr.com/f919ac83fadee4ace61f64c93798a915/tumblr_okm5gf7FxV1ux4a8mo1_400.gif
i.imgur.com/Og8iwEq.gif
img.buzzfeed.com/buzzfeed-static/static/enhanced/webdr03/2013/3/14/11/anigif_enhanced-buzz-13219-1363276319-16.gif

for fuck's sake Twilight just once can you make me not hate you in this story

there are not enough Malcolm Tucker gifs on the internet to describe how I feel right now

[Atrunia]

8598677
The author probably feels, rightly, that would be spoilers.

[hattafan2593]

8598693
Even barring that - even barring that - Spike's friend just freaking died!

And Twilight basically just told Spike that Thorax's death is his fault because he refused to go along with everypony's paranoia.

It's called tact, Twilight.

It's called "not being a total ct when your surrogate son is mourning his best friend's death!"

[Dark Monarch Sombra]

8598709
I have to echo this; Scyphi, WHY exactly are you making Twilight so damn bullheaded and unlikable?

[Danger Noodle]

8598712
And I feel, rightly, that leaving that kind of tag off is disingenuous.

[Dark Monarch Sombra]

8598715
And I have to ask, again: WHY is Scyphi making her so damn unlikable?

[KR Chrome]

OK, is Twilight trying to justify her actions? Because she could just apologize and admit she was wrong. But she does have a difficult position. She insisted that Thorax had influenced Spike. Now that Thorax is gone, the foundation for her argument is gone. She has nopony to point her hoof at now anymore and is afraid to admit she was at fault because she hates doubting herself.

[Dark Monarch Sombra]

8598708
On the other hand, keeping him dead means ANY sort of reconciliation between Spike and his former friends is basically impossible....

[Dark Monarch Sombra]

8598730
Then she's weak. Simple as that.

[Johnny B Mediocre]

8598720
8598726
because plot demands it and it's been well-established in canon that ponies don't like/can't understand things that aren't ponies (unless the ponies know this not-pony character already) without an entire moral explanation/lecture/lesson

let's not try to incite a riot, right? my issues unlike yours are not with the author

[hattafan2593]

8598726
That's a very good question.

Scyphi, an explanation, if you please?

[KR Chrome]

8598736

Like Zecora?

[Gamerdestiny6]

Just let Celestia revoke her title as Princess of Friendship already for f*cks sake!!
She f**ked up more times than I can count on this story.

[Dark Monarch Sombra]

8598736
Yeah, but they usually get over themselves pretty quick....

And how can your problems not be with the author? He's the one making Twi so damn unlikable here...

[Cross Lament]

8598712
Yeah, but that isn't how tagging works. If the author refuses to tell the reader what the story is so that they can read or avoid it based on their preferences, then there's literally no point in having a tagging system at all.

[Johnny B Mediocre]

8598741
Zecora, the bats, etc.

[Johnny B Mediocre]

8598746
because it's been established what the plot of this story is, and you should know what you're gonna expect - you just don't expect something like this

[LtMajorDude]

Well you done it, evil man.

You made me want to physically strange a purple mare that doesn't even exist in the first place.

I don't care how many downvotes this comment gets. It felt right to just say my thoughts that way.

I'm just gonna go read a happy and silly story to wash away the thoughts of wondering what Twily's neck feels like. :|

Thankfully, this is, as you said it, just the beginning of the Twily/Spike feud. So then, evil man, let's see how well it goes~

Damn, I'm sorry and please don't take this seriously, but, you are one evil son of a b----, ya know that?

[Dark Monarch Sombra]

8598751
Weird thing is, as much as I hate Twilight right now, I'm kinda bummed there can't really be any sort of reconciliation between the two now...

[KR Chrome]

8598751

Twilight fails to see it from Spike's perspective.

[Bronyz4ever90]

I never heard an apology from Twilight. Not a single "I'm sorry" I saw nothing but her trying to justify her actions. Not only that, but she never addressed Thorax by his name, just "the changeling" Is it out of bitterness because she feels like she's been replaced as Spike's dearest friend?? Or does she simply just refuse to see herself as wrong because that would mean admitting that "I was horrible" Either way by this point, I imagine that Twilight is dead to him. She along with Shining Armor and Cadence are just royal ponies to him, and nothing more.

[Johnny B Mediocre]

8598763
it's gonna take a little more than just Celestia, her friends' and anyone else who was with her's advice - it's probably gonna take the entirety of Equestria to tell her that she's emotionally, mentally, diplomatically, ethically, morally, and just plain essentially fucking up in a major way

[Dark Monarch Sombra]

8598765
And again, as horrible as Twi's being at this point, it still kinda makes me sad there can't really be any reconciliation between them. And I STILL wanna know why, even now, after everything, Scyphi is making Twilight as horrible as possible...

[Pontiac56]

Wow. Everyone displaying their grief especially the changlings and the rescue team was really touching. Twilight though... I mean, I can tell she was trying not to be aggressive or antagonistic, but even with Thorax dead in the very room, she still would not back down. I think it was obvious that she at least recognizes that she was wrong, but she has not reached a point where she can verbalize that, especially not to Spike who she desperately wants to see her as being justified so that he won't hate her. I'm not sure how future interactions are going to go, but damn, this definitely should finally get her to see that 'she fucked up!'

[Johnny B Mediocre]

8598777
in the land of fiction anything goes

[Forestfire34720]

He stood there panting as he continued to glare at the alicorn. Twilight, to her credit, had pulled back a pace, intimidated by the intensity of Spike’s rage, but she still didn’t back down. She stood there for a moment, thinking through her options on how to delicately respond, hanging her head and licking her lips as she worked it out. “Spike, I understand you and the changeling were close,” she began slowly. “And yes, I have failed to acknowledge that. But Spike…you hadn’t left me much choice…if you had just heard me out and hadn’t been so quick and naïve to so blindly follow him, things—”

This is so not the time to be trying to justify yourself, Twilight. This is not the time to try to prove yourself right again. Spike is hurting, badly, and even if he rejects you, all your focus should've been on comforting him, or just trying to support him in some way, not defending yourself. Working things out between you two (if it ever does work out, that is) comes later. Right now, just try to be there for him.

Oh man, this was sad. I actually started crying (then again, I haven't had the best day, so my feelings were a bit more raw than usual). I like Synthorax, and I agree that Pharynx would not have fit the scene very well.

Wait, so how much longer is this story going to be?

[Professor Frogenshtein]

Dodge, dive and deflect. Bravo, Twilight; you are a true politician.

[Hail King Sombra]

8598724

And I feel, rightly, that leaving that kind of tag off is disingenuous.

It is exceedingly disingenuous. The author could AT LEAST add a "Dark" tag, for Celestia's sake!

And yet again seeing how long this chapter was, I skimmed it for the important developments which were only two - Spike telling Celestia off and telling Twilight to go to hell. When I saw the PAGES AND PAGES of needless exposition on the Mane 5 apologizing, that got cast aside because it, like this entire chapter is an excessively-worded HEADACHE of, "Thorax is dead, we fucked up and we're sorry for your loss". Has the author even BEEN to a funeral/memorial before??? NO ONE bangs on THAT MUCH as these characters did - it would be distasteful and RUDE! Yes, have your memorium, have your characters with their own thoughts and feelings, but let the audience have their own, too...don't spell it ALL out like they can't properly digest the magnitude of what just happened, sheesh!

What a friggin' shame...all that world-building, all that relationship building with Trixie and Fly Leaf - and for what? To kill off Thorax, make everyone vested in the story needlessly sad and STILL not learn to not vomit up so many words all over the audience.

All that's left is to see how long it takes those IDIOT rulers Cadence and Shining Armor to come apologize, because SERIOUSLY, THEY ARE AT FAULT FOR SPIKE AND THORAX'S EXILE WAY MORE than that pathetic idiot, so-called, "Princess of Friendship" who SERIOUSLY should have had her title and wings stripped away LONG AGO.

[Johnny B Mediocre]

8598804
get back to being dead Sombra and take your disciple with you

I'm sorry your reading comprehension is shit, perhaps one-shots are more your taste

[Canary In The Coal Mine]

8598777

This is hardly "as horrible as possible" in regards to Twilight Sparkle. She could have been written a lot worse. Hell, she could have come in and offered to free Spike from Thorax's mind control since his death would have weakened that control, and he can finally be himself again.

I can understand the author's intention of having Twilight fall from grace and try to avoid taking blame for what happened for as long as she can, but I fundamentally see it as Out Of Character for her. The more I read the story, the less I can identify this character as the canonical Twilight Sparkle, because the Twilight Sparkle we know blames herself all the time in the past. That she is trying so hard to avoid blame and doubling down on rationalizations just makes her feel less and less like Twilight Sparkle the character. If her name was changed to somepony else, I wouldn't be able to identify the character as having been Twilight Sparkle at all at this point. There are so few traits shared between the canon version and this one in the story.

[NonDescript]

I feel as though a decent portion of this comment section is asking the wrong question when they ask why Twilight is being written to be unlikable. This doesn't feel like the correct question to be asking, because it seems to suggest that Twilight being presented in that way was the intention, rather than the possibility of it being the result of some character reason.

For one, she isn't coming to this situation with the best footing. Spike is immediately antagonistic, and she's desperate for any way of getting Spike to listen to her: Not in a good position to be tactful and careful with ones words, yet alone when she has no choice but to go on the defensive.

Additionally, as 448 in the last chapters comment went over, the story is about people making sacrifices and the price that is paid for the fruits of those sacrifices. But Twilight is in a different position from the other characters, in that she made a sacrifice that cost her greatly, and was ultimately not worth it.

This whole story has been Twilight trying to fix what she perceived to have been a mistake (letting Spike go), because the cost of Spike's safety (at least, from how it looked to her) was not worth the protection against a perceived threat. And if she can show, in her mind, that Spike following Thorax was a mistake, then that means that she gets both Spike back to "safety" and in her care again, while also having protected the safety of Equestria. If she admits she was wrong about Thorax, then she has to come to terms with the fact that she made the wrong sacrifice.

She would have to admit she threw away Spike's friendship needlessly, and that no good was coming from the pain she caused herself. In my eyes, this is not a Twilight that is simply unlikeable, but one that's grasping at straws trying to convince herself that she still did the right thing, because otherwise that means the Princess of Friendship needlessly gave up her oldest and greatest friend.

I'm more looking forward to (hopefully) when Twilight can have a bit more introspection and have the rush die down enough for her to see the truth.

[Canary In The Coal Mine]

8598804

And yet again seeing how long this chapter was, I skimmed it for the important developments which were only two

There were more than two, the entire thing set the scene for what followed, for the beginning of Spike's thoughts for what follows. Such that he'd even talk to ponies once again. I'm afraid if you will just skim you'll miss those kind of details in this story. The author isn't going to write this story as a roaring rampage of revenge, nor a humiliation conga for everypony involved who weren't in the right (except maybe Twilight Sparkle, whom is being written to be quite unlikable, which is weird considering how everypony who talked to Spike asked him to give her a chance, and then she proceeds to not be worth listening to). It's going to be a spiritual journey with character development, for both Spike and others as well as ponies and changelings as a whole. You should probably keep that in mind going forward, since your skimming seems to imply you having other focuses instead.

[Shepard Dragon]

Sigh....why do I keep torturing myself with sad stories like these.
It's bad enough to lose a friend by death. But to see a once strong beautiful bond completely shattered beyond repair. This story just killed me inside.

[EchoWolf31]

I honestly feel worse for Twilight then I do for Spike because you can tell she's right on that edge of realizing that this was all for nothing and she's gonna feel even worse when she does. Of course, that's when she'll be able to stop rationalizing and start the healing process. It helps that Twilight is my favorite character.

[Insidiaphilia]

8598677
He'll probably add the Tragedy tag after the story is complete.

[Lord Headcheez]

You know, the fact that everyone is losing their minds in the comment section shows how fantastic this story is. When Dumbledore died,I remember wanting to see everyone's real-time reactions to it. We pretty much have that here.

This is also the reason why I defend the pacing in this story. We would not be this distraught if this happened out of the gate. It's all because we were with the boys every friday for the last year that they became family to us.

Also, I'd like to point out that a character death does not immediately equal a tragedy tag. Going back to Dumbledore, Harry Potter isn't a tragedy because of his death.

All in all, I love the chapter and story and I cannot wait for next friday!

[Gh0stWolf480]

Damn...just damn

[Hail King Sombra]

8598833

Sigh....why do I keep torturing myself with sad stories like these.

You and I, like everyone else here, didn't know it was going to turn out that way. I was REALLY hoping it would flow back in to the cannon timeline after (and if) Spike reconciled with Twilight. THAT would have been masterful storytelling.

It's bad enough to lose a friend by death. But to see a once strong beautiful bond completely shattered beyond repair. This story just killed me inside.

And it did not NEED to - that's the REAL tragedy! Argh...this is SO ANNOYING it makes me want to run and write a "fixfic" where in the far future Spike NEVER forgives Twilight and the repercussions of THAT decision. No other story has ever made me want to write a reactionary counter-story SO BADLY! *sigh!*.

*runs off to write up an outline*

[Hail King Sombra]

8598808

get back to being dead Sombra and take your disciple with you

Was that supposed to be an intelligent comment or just a cheap shot because it just comes off as crass and immature.

I'm sorry your reading comprehension is shit, perhaps one-shots are more your taste

See above

You should probably keep that in mind going forward, since your skimming seems to imply you having other focuses instead.

Unfortunately, when a story is so description-heavy, that's the only way some people can get through it.

[Voltaje]

Well, since the last chapter i understood the meaning of the title "GRIEF is the PRICE we pay" that told me that you planned this from the beggini g .

[Lord Headcheez]

8598854
That's what makes this story so great, though. I remember the absolute rage I felt at the end of "Of Mice And Men" and "To Kill a Mockingbird". Both of these books had gut wrenching endings that came out of left field, and it made both of them better books as a result. They both had a point. The former was about preserving a friendship to the end and the latter was a message against racism.

This fanfic does both at the same time. The fact that everyone feels like they got punched in the face says it did its job and did it well. Without all of this, this fix would have been an extended episode and nothing more.

[Canary In The Coal Mine]

8598848

Dumbledore wasn't a main character nor Harry Potter's best friend.

I feel there is a bit of reaching with some comments to praise the direction of the story. I see it as being on very shaky grounds, and it's not clear at all the plot twist was good writing. If the story ended with this chapter, I would say I enjoyed part of the story, but it dropped the ball at the end (despite how I enjoyed a lot of stuff in this chapter), and was overall not as good as it could have been with either a different plot twist or properly exploring the current one. I'd be skeptical of the tastes of anyone else who claimed otherwise. To praise the story right now seems a bit premature, though I agree that it could tie everything together masterfully in the next several chapters.

[SageBrony07]

Twilight.

You couldn't say the three words that even Celestia said.

"I was WRONG!!"

If you said that then maybe you and Spike could have started to heal. But know. You had to to say. I did what I thought was right. You put me in a hard place.

Come on!!! That is justification, not repentance.
It's like saying. "I know it hurt you, but I do again in a heart beat. No changes."
Great chapter. Really emotional.