Equestria Threadfall

by David Silver

7 - The Dragons Know

Luxuriating in a warm lava bath, several teen dragons leaned back against the edge of their heated tub, all looking satisfied with things. A fine filament fell towards them, silvery and wispy, but it ignited as it came close to the still glowing source of heat. Bits of ash fell around them.

"Huh," noted Garble with a raised scaly brow. "What was--" More came, raining down all around them. He and his friends yelped in surprise, but they were among the luckiest. Few were the threads that could withstand the heat enough to reach them, and fewer still that could do damage before the intense heat destroyed them.

The dragon lands were the next target, thread falling in great sheets of destruction. Dragons who had been slumbering in caves would not even know danger had visited them, but those who were perched atop warm stones had more to fear. Ember swung her sceptre imperiously. "What is going on here?!" Thread was falling in clumps around her, leaving her with a baffled expression.

One landed just beside her and she jumped away with a yelp, but one grazed a foot as it soared from the impact. Pain blossomed from nowhere as she howled, flames gushing from her mouth, at first upwards, setting another ball of the stuff ablaze before she turned it onto her foot, not purposefully, but trying to see what was causing such agony.

There was nothing to see, her hot welcome destroying what thread had begun to infect her. The pain remained, but began to abate, just slightly. "Don't let it touch you!" she roared out. "Everyone inside!"

Those within hearing distance of her scrambled, more of a scurry, to find cover. There were plenty of dragons that didn't have that benefit. The dragonlands were a large place, with many scattered dragons, some quite alone. Those caught unprepared and in the open fared poorly, for the luck that Ember had could not be repeated often.

Their howls would go unheard, echoes off the lifeless rocks that were their home. Then nothing save the steady cadence of thread striking the ground. Torch, as large as a mountain, invincible and terrible, had no cave large enough to contain his prodigious bulk. Nor had he ever truly needed one within easy memory. He had been their lord. He still commanded respect and knew no enemy.

He was not prepared. He had seen the silvery clouds as they moved in, but thought little of them. Rain was hardly worthy of being upset about. Then the thread began to fall. It looked pretty, shimmering as it came down. He peered at it curiously, but still saw no reason to be concerned. Most of the thread fell on lifeless rock, some in heated places, exploding into fire that lasted only a few moments.

Then some landed on him, not just one thread, but several clumps striking his massive bulk at once. Then there was pain. He brought up a hand to swat at the spots, thinking he was being physically burned somehow by what had landed on him, but a good scratch did nothing to lessen it, and it was growing worse by the moment, spreading through him as countless threads spread hungrily, eating and growing.

He bellowed in unthinking rage, the pain becoming all he knew, his flame great enough for half of the dragonlands to see, but it would be the only clue they'd have for some time that something had happened to him. More thread landed on him, carpeting him. There was nothing but agony from all directions. He lurched upwards, only to collapse forward, his limbs giving out as thread took it all.

He died alone and miserable, another fatality on that day the dragons would never forget.

---

The griffons had been warned. By the time it came for them, in the darkness of night, they were barely sleeping, whispering of the tales those who had gone to help the ponies had spread. Beware the thread. Hide under stone. This was an issue, as many of their homes were not made of stone at all, but not wanting to be killed, many crowded into what little spaces they had.

Fortunately, griffons were perfectly peaceful folk who could get along during situations of overcrowding and danger.

"Get your talon out of my face!" bellowed an older male voice. "I swear, if it touches me one more time, you won't have it anymore!" He snapped his beak meaningfully, clutching his cane with a scowl. Not that he technically needed that cane, but he felt he might want it for bashing a griffon.

"Shut it, Gramps," grunted another voice in the darkness. "Some of us are trying to get some sleep." Other voices rose in angry agreement.

"All of this," grumbled the elder. "All of this because of some high tales from young whippersnappers. They're full of it, and I'm tired of it." He hopped down from his perch with the others, moving for the door with a deep frown. "I'll sleep in my own damn bed, thank you very much."

He threw open the door, but it didn't swing as much as he expected. It was pushing against something and opened without the satisfying bang he had been expecting. "What the?" Thread was already falling all around them, draped over everything that was strong enough to resist being devoured by it. Their homes, as he could see, had been devoured to the ground.

Grabbing the door, he slapped it shut, throwing his back against it as if to help hold it shut. "On second thought..." Many eyes were on him, watching from the dark. "What? Stop starin' an' go back to bed already."

A younger female landed beside him. "Look, what are you making all this noise for?" She shoved him out of the way without a thought and reached for the door, pushing it open just far enough to see rains of thread coming down outside. She pulled it shut with a bird-like squawk. "Shoot! They weren't lying!"

Chaos exploded through the cramped little bunker, thoughts of sleep banished from their minds. One grabbed for the blinds and wrenched it down. It snapped up to reveal the thick waves of thread falling just outside. A dozen faces pressed in close to see what was going on, their desire to be seperate forgotten for just a moment. "My house," came the stunned whimper of one, but they were hardly the only one that was looking at a patch that had once contained a home. Their town was basically levelled, the ground itself pallid and sick looking, pocked and dug into by unknown forces in strange circles and rings.

"All our houses," corrected a female, pulling back from the view. "That coulda been us..."

The sour mood shattered, many realizing how close they had all come to being beyond any ability to worry. Instead of grumpiness, it became a sullen sadness. Somehow, being forced up against their neighbors didn't seem so bad.

"Poor Gregory," sighed out one, getting little nods from the others. Gregory had opted to not come to the bunker. His house was demolished with the rest, and he was already being written off as dead, possibly double dead. Was that possible? Anything seemed possible at that moment.

"What about the ones that went to help the ponies?" asked another, looking up towards the rest of the room.

"They're on their own," grumped the elder, taking brief flight back to the rod that was also their bed for the evening. "Maybe they're dead. Maybe not. Not our problem right now. Right now, ain't nothin' to do but try to get some sleep."

A younger male waved a hand wildly at the window. "Who can sleep at a time like this! All of our... everything... I didn't think this town could get worse!"

"Seen worse," groused the elder, peering at the younger griffon. "You ain't seen nothin'. There's a reason things looked as bad as they did. Now shut up and go to sleep."

A female griffon tapped at the glass, watching the destructive rain come down on everything. "But what'll we do?"

"Sleep!"

"After that!" the female bellowed with equal venom. "We can't stay in this damned hut forever."

The young male shrugged. "We build it again. What else can we do?" Soft sullen noises rose in agreement as they waited impatiently for the thread to stop falling.

---

Twilight was on a train, rumbling softly beneath her as she napped, or tried to. She kept closing her eyes and going still, but thoughts of the horrors she had seen that day flooded into her mind's eye the moment she let down her guard, starting her awake with flecks of tears in her eyes.

"You alright?" asked Spike in a gently concerned tone. He hopped down and crossed the small distance to hop up next to her. "Was it really that bad?"

"Worse..." She extended a wing around Spike, drawing him in close. "I know I should be sleeping. I should be getting prepared for tomorrow."

"You're not perfect, Twi. Try the breathing thing Cadance showed you." He made the motions with his hands, in with his breath, out with his breath in slow motions. "Like that, right?"

"Right..." She sat up tall and put a hoof to her chest, her wing still holding Spike close. "In... Out... In..." She moved her hoof slowly, trying to rally herself. "Ponies are counting on me to be strong. I can't be strong if I collapse out of fatigue."

"You're doing what you can," assured Spike, reaching one arm around her to hug her back. "Right now, that's getting a little rest until we're back in Ponyville."

"Yeah..." She closed her eyes, still moving her hoof, trying to calm herself.

Spike's cheeks bulged and he made a noise quite similar to a cat with a hairball. "Spike?" Twilight popped open the eye closer to him, peering. "You alright?"

He vomited up a great green mass of magic that gathered rapidly into a scroll. Twilight snatched it in her magic, both eyes open as she unfurled it. "We just left, what could..." She began to read it quickly, her wings going limp, one hanging off of Spike. "Oh no..."

"What? Did it hit Ponyville?!" Spike clapped his hands to his cheeks. "Tell me Rarity's okay!"

"Ponyville's fine," she assured with a soft huff. "The same cannot be said for Griffonstone or..." She looked up at Spike.

"What? Go on." He rolled a hand. "You already said Rarity was safe."

"Or the dragon lands," she finished. When Spike went rigid, she tightened her wing, drawing him up tight to her side. "Ember's alright, they report, but many other dragons are not."

"But they have fire!" he complained, hands going wide. "They should have been able to handle that without a problem!"

"Our warning didn't reach them in time." She turned the scroll so he could see. "Our messenger ran into one of theirs and swapped scrolls. The dragons that were outside..." She didn't finish, nor did she have to. The two went quiet, leaning against one another for support.

---

"That looks painful."

Luna looked up. She was in her room, dark and quiet, or it had been until a moment ago. "Discord?"

"The one and only." He stepped out from a curtain that wasn't there, coming into clear view. "You're a mess."

"I'm fine," hotly denied Luna. "I defended our people and prevented further damage. Where were you? You could have assisted."

"No one asked, and they get all grumpy when I help beforehand." He made a dismissive wave. "But look at you, proud defender of Equestria. A pity you didn't come through unscathed." Even as she opened her mouth to deny it, his hand brushed her wing out of the way, not connected to the rest of his body, just floating in reach to give it a flick.

The raised wing allowed the thread's dreadful scar to come into view. "That really does look terrible. Have you considered telling your sister about it?"

Author's Note:

Welcome to fall #2, in the night of the same day. Will anyone get sleep while this is going on?

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Comments

[Arkonfleight]

I mean, if the dragons HAD all happened to be lavabathing, they likely wouldn't be pissed enough to go set the rest of it on fire for VENGEAAAANCE. That said, they're still in a good position, because they've got zilch for agriculture, can swim in lava, and breathe fire.

I'm waiting for Mount Aris to chime in with "We JUST rebuilt all this!"

[Booster Spice]

Dragons are more reptile sin, scales, than Cragodile, mineral bark scale coverings? then again, spike in Moultdown showed more feathre like scales, easy to lift upa nd reach organic material beneath instead of being interlocking?

Theres only one Shining Armor for shielding, but it would be intresting if Happy Hollows effect could be duplicated for physical, not just magical protection?

Rainbow Shield?

[Tangent]

9751163
Any dragon that had been lavabathing would have had to face a choice of death by thread or death by suffocation unless any of the lava was underneath a stone overhang.

[David Silver]

9751685
I feel I should point out that it gets scorchingly hot NEAR lava, not even in contact with it.

[Tangent]

9751710
Fair point.

I now picture dragon watchposts being set up in artificial lava pools.

[Midknight Defender]

9752033

From the cavern and from the bowl,
And the lava red and gold,
Rise the dragons of Equus
Aloft, on wing, raging and bold.

[Aurora Dimmet]

This just in: Kirin became angry, no casualties.

[Tangent]

9752276
Well, other than their village, which seems to be mostly wooden structures.

But those are just buildings.

This, of course, assumes that Autumn Blaze isn't the sole survivor. Which really depends on whether or not the events in the episode Sounds of Silence have already taken place. Because, until the events of that episode occur, all the other Kirin are under a self-imposed magical curse that keeps their emotions in check. Mind you, once that curse was lifted, yeah, the thread aren't going to be much of a personal threat to the Kirin.

[howard035]

Jeeze, that ending for Torch really hit me hard. What an ignoble end for a great leader. Conversely, Griffonstone might actually be better off from this, long term. This might be the event so terrible it shocks them out of their slow slide (further) into total collapse.

It'll be interesting to see how Equestria deals with this differently than Pern did. Both planets have dragons, and understand the value they hold against Thread. (I just realized that when Spike when on Luna torching Thread, he was a dragon-rider! )

But Equestrian dragons wouldn't really need riders or assistants, in fact they'd probably just be a liability. Assuming Discord doesn't just get rid of the Thread with a snap (a perennial challenge to most adventure-type stories in Equestria over the last 6 years), dragons might well be mercenaries hired to live across pony and other villages, for whenever the Thread returns.

[Frustration in Excelsis]

Poor Torch. What a way to end one of the oldest lives in the world.