Committed!

by Canvas_Shade

Episode One: Ex Libris, Ad Mundi

25 March, Year 1004 of Celestia’s Reign:

The small Baltimare apartment was rife with the lingering aroma of old parchment. There were shelves stuffed with entire archives on art, biology, and engineering that rivaled the Golden Oaks Library in Ponyville. Any visitor—if there were any—could easily tell a difference between the older and newer arrangements. Older papers were stacked neatly against the walls, every stack with an even layer of dust on them. However, the more recent of the art books were scattered in what their owner Canvas Shade would proudly call ‘organized chaos.’ In the center of the room was a simple, small coffee table whose wood was not even lacquered, but one could tell that it was placed with great care. On top was a radio set by itself in the center in the same fashion, making the table the only relatively clear surface. It was only a simple, low-end radio with less-than-ideal audio quality. But what made it particularly unique was a set of wires connected to a miniaturized zap-apple tree seated upon the only windowsill in the apartment. Canvas owned a small twin-size bed nestled snugly along the windowed wall and the entrance. Its simple mattress was filled with hay and adorned with a faded blue sheet and a single sheep’s wool pillow of a dull gray color.

The cloudy glass in the single windowpane was lifted, allowing the gentle winds from Horseshoe Bay to circulate through the ever-present essence of parchment in the air. The wind combined with the soft crackling of zap-apple electricity nearly drowned out the radio’s weak volume, but Canvas did not mind it much. There was a comforting effect that the subtle yet consistent din, and he found it quite relaxing while he reflected upon his past works of art upon the single couch in his abode.

Today was a special day to the caramel colored unicorn. Today was when Canvas would, at long last, begin a masterpiece that he intended to be one of his greatest personal achievements. Canvas wanted all of his training in art and literature, and the tens of thousands of hours spent honing his skills to be poured into the project he had in mind since foalhood. Over the years Canvas had created sketches and written countless notes on characters for the would-be literary masterpiece. Every single piece was safely kept inside large expansion folders, protected by thin plastic sleeves designed to shield the parchment from Baltimare’s humid climate. In the folders were thousands of drawings ranging from half-finished sketches to elaborate, full-page ink illustrations of pony characters, dragons, griffons, buildings, or landscapes.

Canvas slouched upon the sofa’s arm while slowly browsing through some of the older drawings that he rejected for use some time ago. “Hard to believe it’s been so long since I drew these… Mother of Luna, was I terrible!” He scoffed lightheartedly with a nostalgic smile and a slow shake of the head. Canvas lifted his hoof to adjust his trademark sunglasses, which he always kept nestled upon his horn and jet-black mane.

‘Hmm… I should change the design of this a little bit. Oh, and her head’s not proportional…’ He muttered as the gold-tinted magic from his horn encompassed a quill and jar of red ink set upon a bookshelf on the other side of the room. Several pages also levitated and stacked upon the hardwood floor nearby. With careful strokes he marked certain elements to remind himself of what to focus on when redrawing them. After finishing with each page, the flawed pictures joined the rest in a stack the unicorn began weeks ago.

For some reason that eluded Canvas, his ever-active mind found it difficult to focus on the task at hoof. He stood up and paced back and forth, his hooves tapping lightly upon the floor despite his slightly husky build. Something’s not right… something’s either out of place, or I forgot about something important. When was the last time I got supp—? Before Canvas could complete his thought, he flinched as a distant yet dreadful noise from above seemed to rattle the entire apartment building. The surging vibrations felt to the unicorn as if sticks of dynamite went off amidst the mountains beyond the forest. When the noise ceased after a few seconds, he carefully removed the potted zap-apple tree from its perch to view the surrounding area. Oddly, there did not seem to be any disturbances. In a matter of seconds, the thought slipped away into the current of the ever-flowing river of his mind.

Canvas replaced the plant before continuing to pace once again, trying to figure out the unknown factor that plagued his thoughts. After about ten minutes, the constant tapping of hooves reminded him of the engineering design ponies he envied so much, who paced back and forth across a stage as they spoke to audiences of thousands while showing off their company’s latest products in development for the past year.

Ah, that reminds me, I need to keep up-to-date on the keynotes for this year. I’d hate to play catch-up again like in ‘03. Hmm… keynote… key… note. Note. No… November! The last time I went to the supply shop! Canvas pounced onto a boxy wooden chest at the foot of his bed where he kept all of his extra supplies. He flung the lid open with magic, and its contents were pitiful, indeed. Inside were only a few sheets of blank parchment, two quills, and four measly colored pencils, and cobwebs. The unicorn chided himself for such gross procrastination. But perhaps it was not such a bad thing. After all, his coat did seem to be getting pale from a recent lack of exposure to the sun.

“I guess the walk would do me some good. It’s not that hot outside, anyway.” Canvas shrugged and dropped the lid shut. He magically lowered his sunglasses over his eyes while gathering all of the bits he could spare, which totaled 61. The art pony emptied the money into his saddlebags and grabbed them with his teeth, expertly slipping the straps onto his torso. The larger than average carriers obscured nearly all of his cutie mark: a winged paintbrush over an open scroll of parchment. But the colt did not mind, as long as the saddlebags served their purpose—which they did quite well. He had long forgotten what material the brown satchels were made with. They had the strength and consistency of burlap, but were much nicer, despite its rugged and well-used look. The saddlebags’ contents hardly varied: a few bits for emergency purposes, a pouch with art utensils and a folder with blank parchment inside (for the times when he simply wanted to draw out of boredom). And the most valuable of all to Canvas was a black binder full of a collection of the drawings he was most proud of. He dreamed of being noticed for his talent by somepony with the connections to have his work noticed all throughout Equestria. Just in case such an opportunity came to be, the unicorn always carried it with him so that he would never miss the chance to show that certain somepony his very best work.

Canvas stood by the door a few minutes later, going over his mental checklist for the third and final time before exiting the apartment. Sunglasses, check. Saddlebags, check. Water, check. Desperate need for sunlight and fresh air, check. Alright, let’s do this!

***

In Southwest Baltimare:

After two hours of trudging across town, Canvas finally approached his destination: a quaint brick building named ‘The Silver Easel’. It was a humble one-story, boutique-sized store nestled between two larger establishments that reminded Canvas of pastel-colored townhome mansions. The Silver Easel had reasonable prices, despite its upper-class location on the beachfront. It all was thanks to the grassroots business ethics of storeowner Opaque Hue, who was as down-to-earth as they come. He and Canvas were friends since his first visit to the supply store. Mr. Hue, like Canvas, knew what it was like to start out with nearly nothing, and they both knew the value of dedication and persistence. Most of all, their passion for art made it seem as if they were father and son. As he reminisced about their friendship, the unicorn felt terrible for not speaking with Mr. Hue since he returned from his vacation two weeks ago. They wrote each other since he closed up shop for the winter (as he did every year), but it just was not the same. However, Canvas was happy to have taken the opportunity to catch up while stocking up on supplies. Overall it would make for a satisfactorily productive day.

Canvas peeked through the glass doors to see Mr. Hue deftly sweeping the linoleum tiles with his front hooves. When the automatic doors slid open, the navy blue earth stallion turned around, happy to greet his most valued customer, “Ah, Coffee! It’s fantastic to see you! How goes the commission business?” the storeowner asked while casually leaning upon the broomstick.

The colt sighed with lowered ears as he walked past the sliding glass doors. He knows I don’t like that nickname…! Oh, well. At least he doesn’t seem mad at me for not visiting for so long. “Ehh, things are at a stand-still. But it’s not all bad, I guess. But I at least have enough for food, rent, and supplies to last me for a couple months. Well, barely.” Canvas answered with a sigh.

Mr. Hue shook his head sadly, “I know that artists usually go through rough times when they start out, but you’ve been going through this kind of thing for five years! How do you plan to break outta this?”

Canvas looked to the side and bit his lower lip in thought. “I… dunno, really. The motivation and enthusiasm just hasn’t been there lately. On the bright side, I can finally begin that huge project I’ve been telling you about! But…”

“But what, Canvas?” he asked with worry and empathy.

“A part of me doesn’t feel confident that it’d be able to even get any attention whatsoever.” The colt sniffled and fought back tears.

“Son, you can’t go about things with that mindset, or you’ll never even be able to even finish. You’re an artist, Canvas! You’re a risk taker by definition! You’ve got to be as confident and excited about your work as you want others to be. Sure, it’s a hit-and-miss sort of deal, but that adds to the fun!”

No matter hard things were, Mr. Hue’s advice and encouragement always were able to help put Canvas’ mind at ease. The colt realized just then how much he needed it during those five long months. “I guess you’re right, as always, Mr. Hue…” Canvas said, pausing to close his eyes and focus his magic. He knew from memory where the items were, and all he had to do was levitate them from wherever he stood. Mr. Hue watched intently, impressed by how Canvas’ magic surrounded multiple items from different areas of the store all at once, and then directed them to the checkout counter in a single-file procession. The unicorn added the price of each individual item in his head and stopped only when the total was close to the amount he brought to spend, and the two art ponies continued their conversation while Mr. Hue rang the items up.

Canvas perked up with a brilliant idea, “I’ve got it! I work here, couldn’t I? I’d get to follow my passion while earning a steady income to get by on! It’d be perfect!”

Mr. Hue smiled at his enthusiasm, but the smile waned with an apologetic sigh. “I’m very sorry, but I have all the help I can hire for now. Unfortunately, this kind of business just isn’t what it used to be. Ponies seem to be less and less interested in making their own art every year. But I’ll let you know as soon as there’s an opening—by the way, that’ll be 60 bits total, please.”

Canvas started to object, but decided against it and handed him the money. “I understand. Thanks for considering it, though.” Every rejection, even a friendly one, always reminded Canvas that he could somehow never land a ‘real job,’ as his mother put it, despite having no lack of valuable skills.

“I went to Sweet Apple Acres once. They’re so friendly, and the land’s sprawling. You’d definitely find at least a temporary place there!”

“But…” Canvas never intended to do manual labor as a job, and in a farm, no less. Even so, it at least would be a decent occupation in case his current source of income fell through. And it would be amazing to live where the Elements of Harmony were, even for just a little while. So far, Canvas’ mental list of pros and cons seemed to be evenly matched. “I’ll consider it. Thanks for the suggestion, Mr. Hue.” The downtrodden unicorn slipped his head through the shopping bag handles before trudging to the sliding doors. “By the way, I look forward to hearing about your time in the Griffons’ territory.”

“Anytime, Coffee.” Mr. Hue smile, but inside he could not help but feel guilty for his inability to help the colt in a tangible way. Sometimes advice and encouragement simply did not feel like enough. I’ve been where you are, kid. Lots of times. Just hang in there as long as you can. You’ll get a break soon…

***

Only midway through his journey, Canvas glanced at the evening sky with a scowl. By then the street lamps had been turned on, and the seagulls that dwelled near the Bay had gone to sleep hours ago. It was still a long way back to the apartment complex, and the colt did not look forward to navigating in the dark. The obscure dirt road Canvas preferred was located between the Baltimare city limits and the adjacent forest. It always took longer to travel, and was poorly lit at night, but it was better for him than maneuvering through the clamor of inner-city crowds. A bell tower further within the city showed 8:23, and the gates to the complex where he lived were due to be locked at 9:00. There were a few more miles left to his journey, and he knew making that deadline was a lost cause unless he galloped at full speed. Canvas scoffed at the notion and slowed his pace even more. Guess I’ll have to get the land-mare to open it for me… again. Neither of us will be happy about that. He grumbled with furrowed brows and head held low.

The art pony suddenly lifted his head when the screams and shouts of several ponies running at full-gallop in the opposite direction reached his ears. Even from a distance, he could see the looks of pure fright on their faces. The only times Canvas had seen those expressions were in movies where somepony is about to be devoured by some vile creature from the swamps, or something of the like. Seems like they saw Nightmare Moon herself! Whatever it is, I hope it’s far away. The unicorn tried to ignore it, but the further he walked, the sounds of panic were increasingly audible.

The same noise that Canvas heard from his apartment echoed into the night sky, immediately followed by a powerful sonic shockwave. Thanks to the added weight of his shopping bags, the art pony was able to stay upright with minimal effort. That’s exactly what I heard from the apartment…! What exactly is going on here?! Canvas closed and shielded his eyes from the subsequent cloud of debris, but when he opened them, the lingering airborne dust made his eyes water terribly. Despite the inherent dangers, his curiosity overpowered his better judgment. It was as if some mysterious force persuaded him toward the source of the blast.

Canvas hesitant gait soon became a bold gallop. All he thought about was seeing about whatever sent the plumes of flame barreling into the sky. He ran head-on into an unbearable heat, which was enough to get the colt to slow his pace considerably. Although the red haze in the air combined with dust and embers made it almost impossible to see past his own hooves, Canvas spotted the silhouettes and voices of several other unicorns repeatedly bolting forward and jumping back, as if trying to combat who or whatever was causing so much destruction and panic. They barked commands to each other, which made it easy to surmise that they were part of the Baltimare Police force. Knowing they were on the scene slightly quelled his fears.

Sharp cracking noises echoed like fireworks, followed by what sounded like the groaning of an old wooden bridge on the verge of collapse. Combat magic?! What pony would be capable of fending THAT off?! That’s it—I’m out of here! Canvas turned back to put as much distance as possible between himself and the fracas. However, a lamppost landed in front of him, lodging into the ground like a smoldering metal spear and forcing the colt to skid to a halt and change direction. Amidst the chaos, the art pony lost all sense of direction. His heart raced and his breaths grew short. Canvas feared that he would either be killed by whatever the police were fending off, something would crush him, or he would suffocate from smoke inhalation. Either way, his mind prepared for it to be his last moments alive.

The ground shook as heavy thrashing agitated the torrent of airborne debris and embers. The noises and vibrations confused Canvas as his mind tried desperately to figure out what might be causing them. A sharp whistle sounded from above, followed by a second crash in front of the unicorn that sent him jumping backwards with a loud yelp. An object with the thickness and mass of a young tree lay in front of him, only feet away from his front hooves. What it was exactly was not apparent, thanks to the obscuring clouds of dust, but Canvas knew that this ‘tree’ was not supposed to be flexible and sliding along the ground, and his mind put two and two together, at last. The horrified unicorn nearly shouted several obscenities out of shock, but his mouth and throat were much too dry. His fear increased ten fold when the police unicorns decided that it was better to cut their losses and retreat until reinforcements could arrive. Damn it, I should have taken the main route! Why did this have to happen HERE of all places?!

Though it was terrifying to discover what kind of creature they were facing, Canvas briefly discarded his fears long enough to let his rational mind take over. The art pony stood up and resorted to following the constabulary unicorns, since they would most likely have a better sense of direction than he did in his panicked state of mind. He quickly tossed away the cumbersome shopping bags for more speed. However, the unicorn did not cover two strides before tripping upon the lamppost and painfully colliding with the ground. The sudden stop broke the strap around Canvas’ torso, causing his saddlebags to fly out of sight beyond the now thick columns of smoke.

His movements were slow as he lifted his head from the scorching hot soil. As he rubbed the dirt from the side of his face, he heard a menacing footstep behind him. Before Canvas could turn to get a better look at what it looked like, he was met with a blast of fire rushing directly at him. The yellow and white of the flames were too much for his eyes to handle, and the heat surrounding it was excruciating. He covered his head with both forelegs and shut his eyes tight, knowing for certain that his life was over. ’Well… at least it’ll be quick and the pain won’t last very long…’ flashed through his thoughts. But instead of the archetypal light at the end of a dark tunnel, there was a sudden flash of intense golden light. Within the milliseconds that elapsed, an abrupt high-pitched noise overtook all other sounds, followed by what sounded like shattering glass. Not knowing what to expect if he opened his eyes, the art pony kept them shut; his body remained as still and tense as tuned piano strings.

After thirty long seconds, Canvas found himself sprawled upon the charred, smoking dirt. It reminded him of paintings of a great battle of legend that were lectured on in History classes. Everything in immediate sight was obliterated, burning, or both. Not a single tree was left standing. Canvas looked himself over, making sure that all of his limbs were still attached. Despite the surroundings and soot-covered coat, the art pony sighed with relief before coughing violently from inhaling ashes. However, his enthusiasm dampened when finding that his expensive art supplies were burned to cinders and scattered every which way. Surprisingly, his saddlebags were intact, having sustained only burn marks on the corners. A tiny smile grew upon Canvas’ muzzle. It seemed that there was nothing the ever-dependent twin satchels could not survive.

His ephemeral thoughts were interrupted by another dangerously close, earth-shaking thud. Canvas’ stomach lurched as his attention abruptly returned to the creature that nearly ended him. Through the relenting smoke a pair of glowing blue eyes came into sight. The iris and black slit pupils were brooding and full of rage. A scaly paw with hooked, ivory-colored claws that could put a griffon to shame stepped nerve-rackingly close to Canvas’ head. The light from the flames that surrounded the reptilian creature’s body illuminated its grey scales, from which a spectrum of yellows and oranges reflected.

Canvas’ fear gave way to pure awe at the wondrous and deadly creature in front of him. It’s—you’re a-a…!

The dragon lowered its head for a closer look at Canvas as well, curious as to why he was not as fazed by its alarming proximity as any other pony would be. The tip of its slender muzzle almost came into contact with Canvas’, and it was a struggle for him to not focus on the set of teeth jutting from its upper jaw. The unicorn winced at the intense heat from its breaths, small flames still licking past its closed mouth. He dared not make a sound in protest, lest he might end up head first inside its maw in less than a second.

Eight smooth, black horns aesthetically curved upward from its head. Its long main pair extended from above its eye ridges, and the other six extended from the back of the jawline, three on each side. Beyond the long neck was its lithe reptilian body with the same gray scales as its paws. Still, at about twice Canvas’ size, it was diminutive compared to most of the fully-grown dragons that Canvas read about. Numerous spines adorned the creature’s back, from its head to the end of the sleek, serpentine tail that was tipped with the same glossy black as its horns. Plated scutes of a lighter gray protected the front of the dragon’s body, and powerful, feathered wings that could easily outmatch even the fastest of Pegasi were slightly opened above its body in an aggressive manner.

To Canvas’ confusion, the dragon’s gaze shifted to a curious object in front of his hooves. It seemed to be intrigued at the pair of spectacles that were blown from atop his head by the raging fire blasted at him. The lenses were warped and its metal frame broken, bent, and still smoldering. “A-wh…? Y—!” Shock and ire swelled up inside the stammering unicorn as it sunk in that his precious eyewear was/ almost beyond recognition. “What in Tartarus is WRONG with you?! I can’t afford another pair of these! It’s the only pair I’ve got, and I wear them ALL THE TIME! What am I gonna do NOW?!” Canvas shouted louder than he ever had in his entire life—and to a creature that could kill him with ease, no less! But at the moment, that did not matter. After years of having them on, wearing the shades felt as natural as any part of his body. Losing them made Canvas feel naked in a figurative sense.

The dragon reeled back in shock and outrage and spoke in a deep yet distinctly female voice. The volume of her angered reply made the Royal Canterlot voice sound like Fluttershy’s timid whispers. “YOU CHOSE TO INTERFERE!! WHAT KIND OF IDIOT EXPECTS TO APPROACH A DRAGON AND HAVE NO HARM DONE TO THEM?!” The power of her booming voice forced Canvas to step backward, but he refused to back down.

“I was trying to help, or at least see what the hay was going on here! And here I thought for a second that getting to meet a dragon would be an amazing experience… but I guess you’re right; I should’ve just minded my own business!”

Seething with fury quenchable only by bloodshed, the dragoness stood on her hind legs while drawing back her foreleg as far as they would go. Her claws were primed to rend, but instead only landed heavily beside the unicorn and tore a deep gash into the ground. Fortunately for Canvas, she reminded herself that she was not out to kill. Tears borne of conflicting emotions welled up in her eyes as the same paw raked the ground. The dragoness let out one last ear-shattering roar in the art pony’s face before stealing into the darkness of the Baltimare Forest without another word. At close range, the sound of her roar was like multiple lightning bolts striking near to Canvas all at once.

The dumbfounded colt sat in the middle of the demolished patch of land, still as a garden statue. His body was rigid and his teeth clenched. As his muscles relaxed and the ringing left his ears, Canvas let himself fall onto his back, his breaths short and heavy.

“Oh my gosh, what did I just DO?! I mean—I ran off a DRAGON, for crying out loud!” he shouted at himself, lamentingly covering his eyes with both front hooves. Any other pony would be ecstatic to achieve such a seemingly brave feat and most likely be dubbed a hero by anypony who heard about it, but that was far from Canvas’ mind. He remembered the tears that welled up in that dragon’s eyes and knew that there was more to her story than simply causing trouble in his hometown. The regretful art pony figured that it would be very unlikely to find out more from her, but he was determined to at least try. “But I’ve got to find her and apologize, first!”

***

Kenanshar Nyvena let the acidic tears flow freely down her face and dissipate into the cool night wind. The dragoness tried to find the nearest place where ponies were unlikely to roam around, yet they still spotted her and shot their painful unicorn magic at her. She wanted to roar at the top of her lungs as she contemplated how devastating and unfair her predicaments became with each passing hour. Then, on top of everything, there was that outrageous pony who dared shout at her in such a manner!

Who does he think he is? That jackass… I should’ve mauled him when I had the—

Her incensed contemplations were interposed by distant hoofsteps far below. The perturbed dragoness looked down with bared teeth, and she growled to herself with outrage, “IMPOSSIBLE!!”

“Please…! Stop flying…! I want… to talk!” Canvas shouted up to Nyvena in between sharp breaths. He made sure to not let her disappear beyond the forest canopy, no matter what obstacles he had to maneuver past.

“Why? So you can zap me as well, then shout at me some more, you filthy horned mule?!” Nyvena growled back.

“No! I want to… say… I’m sorry!” He gasped as the pain of fatigue plagued the nonathletic unicorn. Canvas never galloped that fast and for such a distance in his life, which he especially regretted now that he had to.

“Stay away from me!” The disconsolate dragoness shot another breath of fire in Canvas’ direction. It nearly struck him, but the art pony’s adrenaline boosted his reflexes enough to escape the explosion.

“Can’t you… just give me… a minute?! I’m about… to have… a stroke here!”

With an exasperated groan Nyvena dove and glided into the nearest grassy clearing. She tapped her foot impatiently while waiting for Canvas to arrive after a couple of minutes. When the exhausted unicorn reached her, all four of his legs wobbled incessantly, and his tongue lolled from his muzzle. The prolific sweat that poured down Canvas’ face was enough to form a small puddle if he stayed still for more than a minute or so. He craned his neck to unstrap the saddlebags with his teeth, letting the partially burnt satchels fall to the ground.

He stumbled over his words before he could figure out where to start, “I know I was a jackass… for shouting at you. I’m very sorry—truth is… I’ve always wanted to meet a dragon, ever since I was a foal…”

Nyvena raised an eye ridge suspiciously, finding Canvas’ fascination to be quite off-putting. “So why should I care?”

Canvas lowered his head apologetically. “That’s the thing. I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to see me again. I get the chance of a lifetime to meet a majestic creature such as yourself, and I completely screw it up. Even if I did almost die, and my belongings were ruined, none of it is worth ruining an experience like that.”

Nyvena spoke slowly with hesitant consideration, “I—” the dragoness interrupted herself and shook her head with a loud snort, “Look, I do not have time for this foolishness. I did not come here to be sweet-talked by an equine!”

Canvas noticed Nyvena’s hind foot tapping anxiously while she sat upon her haunches. “Where were you going, anyway? If I may say so… you look as if you lost something important.”

She quickly wiped away a remnant of her tears. Showing such a weakness of emotion—as dragons usually considered it—was the last thing she wanted to do around the strange pony.

“Why do you even care? What is your angle?”

“Nothing, I promise you. I’ve lost something really close to my heart before. It was a few years ago—”

“DO NOT PATRONIZE ME WITH YOUR EMPATHY!” Nyvena’s voice boomed with the intensity of a rockslide. “I assure you, my loss is FAR worse!” she hissed. However, she paused her ranting when seeing Canvas trembling and backing away. The angry, bold unicorn that shouted at her before was long gone.

“I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

Nyvena relented and calmed her tone in an attempt at gentleness. “Do not worry yourself, Unicorn. I know, in your own odd way, that you are trying to help. That is more than I could expect from any dragon or pony I have come across.”

“I-I want to help you in a more tangible way, though.” The art pony replied timidly, trembling in a foal-like position.

“What do you mean, ‘a more tangible way?’ How could you possibly help me?” Nyvena inquired with a sneer. The notion of traveling with a pony, of all creatures was utterly ludicrous to her. A griffon, perhaps. A gorgon; she would consider it. But a unicorn?

Canvas took a deep breath and chose his words carefully, “I could talk to anypony you want me to. There’s a lot of information I could gather in your stead. Plus I’ve got sharp eyesight and great attention to detail. I could help you look for clues for…” The art pony paused when realizing that he had no idea as to what they would be searching for.

Nyvena lifted her head to the sky while mulling over the unicorn’s rhetoric. Traveling with Canvas would devastate her reputation. On the other paw, if he does what he says he could do, Canvas could be a great asset indeed. “I must tell you this now: your time with me will possibly be the most miserable part of your life, Unicorn—what I am looking for means more to me than my own life! If you truly want to help, you must commit yourself fully and be sure to keep up. In exchange, I will do my best to ensure that you can return to your normal life if we succeed.”

“But what if…”

With a rumbling growl, the dragoness lowered herself onto all fours, her head once again inches from Canvas’, ensuring his full understanding of the severity of her situation. “I will not bring you along so that we can fail! If we do not find my children, we will keep searching until we know what happened to them!” She huffed and turned her back on the unicorn with her forelegs crossed.

“Y-your children?” Canvas asked meekly with ears turned downward. Nyvena’s actions may have been reckless and downright destructive, but who could blame her, with circumstances like that? Somepony steals her offspring, others shoot magic at her when she is already grounded, and he shouted at her over something that anypony else would consider insignificant. The unicorn began to feel even worse for the way he handled things earlier. “You were right. I can’t come close to putting myself in your place. I’ve never had a marefriend, and I’ve certainly never have had foals, nor possibly ever will…” Canvas admitted as he empathetically directed his gaze to Nyvena. “I really don’t care about the sunglasses, or the supplies, or even that you almost killed me. It’s an honor to finally meet a dragon, but it hurts a lot to see you like this.”

She turned to look at him. “You realize that you might not survive this, correct?”

“Yes, you’ve made that very easy to surmise,” Canvas quietly replied. He then lowered his head and looked at the ground ashamedly, “I don’t have much to my name, and I don’t even have a definite way to support myself. Being at the beck and call of more fortunate ponies feels downright terrible sometimes, even if it is for something I love doing. There are no friends to talk to, and my family only seems to make things worse. I’ve always been poor, and I’m just as likely to live on the streets as when I lived with them. But if I go with you, I’ll be leaving behind everything I know…” Canvas furrowed his brow and stamped the ground once with a forehoof. “You know what? To Tartarus with familiarity! If all of that is all I’ve been familiar with,” the art pony said with the most contempt he has ever expressed out loud, “then I don’t need it!” After a few seconds, Canvas looked around him when there was no response to his resolute speech. There was no sign of Nyvena’s imposing presence whatsoever.

“Damn it all! I ran her off AGAIN!!” shouted the art pony as he pounded the dirt with all four of his hooves in a temper tantrum of self-frustration. He did not hear over the ruckus he was causing that Nyvena was not far away. She flew above the forest canopy and returned to the fretful unicorn with a graceful landing.

Canvas immediately paused when seeing Nyvena in front of him once more, and then blushed with embarrassment. “I… thought you’d left again.”

The dragoness replied curtly as she wiped blood from her muzzle, “I did consider doing so. I refuse to have profuse whining foals around me. However, I managed to catch a nice little morsel during your wallowing session.”

Canvas gulped at the thought of her devouring whatever unfortunate prey Nyvena managed to overtake, and he quickly changed the subject, “Soooo… uh, what happened when the eggs went missing?”

Nyvena stared blankly in recollection, her breathing noticeably heavier as overwhelming sadness crept into her mind once more. “That night… yesterday night, I was especially drowsy, so my vision was to blurred to see much of anything. It did not help that there was an unnatural mist surrounding my nest in the mountains. It made me uneasy, as if there were a looming presence—as if a specter approached as a harbinger of my sorrow that was soon to come. I huddled around my eggs as much as possible, but then something grabbed hold of my neck. There was a horrid white energy around me that bound my movements like chains. As I lay there, I was forced to watch my five eggs lifted out of my nest with another unicorn’s magic, one by one. They disappeared into the mist as fast as when they arrived. As if that was not enough, before they left, the thief who kept me bound had constricted the energy around my neck and limbs so strongly that it took only seconds for me to pass out, despite how desperately I forced myself to stay alert. Afterwards, I must have been unconscious for an entire day. I looked for hours, but the thieves had covered their trail so well that not even I could track them.”

Empathic ire built up in Canvas’ heart as the mother dragon told her story. When she finished, he replied through clenched teeth, “I definitely want to make this right... you shouldn’t be alone in this! Whoever did that to you should be repaid for their actions, ten fold!” Alongside feelings of anger and vengeance, an uncanny excitement welled up within him, the likes of which the unicorn never experienced before. At last, he had the chance to make a real difference, and to a dragon, no less! However, the fleeting anticipation quickly gave way to discouragement as he realized a very important contingency, “We’ll be traveling all over Equestria, I’m sure. Somepony’s bound to see us! Worst-case scenario: either they get some powerful unicorns to get rid of you, or whoever took your eggs gets rid of us both! What happens then?”

Nyvena scoffed, “the key word you seem to have missed is ‘try,’ Little Horned One. You can counter certain kinds of magic, correct?”

Canvas’ ears flattened along his head as he admitted with self-degradation, “To be frank, I’m terrible at combat and defensive magic. It was nothing short of a miracle that I survived the blast you shot at me…”

A unicorn who is not killed with magic. Why me, Ancestors, WHY?! At first Nyvena held her face in her paws out of sheer disappointment. But then she remembered the flash of golden light of a very unusual intensity. “But no pony’s magic has ever been enough to protect him or herself from my fire—at least not without sustaining serious injuries, if he or she is fortunate!”

“You’re… kidding, right?” Canvas tilted his head and raised a brow skeptically.

She shook her head and sighed, “On second thought, we can discuss that in due time. For now we must prepare—well, you must prepare in the morning. As for me, I have not slept in over a day.”

“Agreed. There are some things I have to get from my apartment. Plus I have to write a notice to the land-mare. And leave the rent money for her in advance,” he lowered his head again and groaned. At that point Canvas was envious of how dragons could do just fine living practically anywhere, in nearly any condition.

Nyvena had no idea what an ‘apartment’ or ‘land-mare’ was, and the dragoness could not be bothered to ask, so she put it out of mind. She held out a front paw and directed her invisible magical energy to it. With a small burst of fire, a paw-full of rare jewels and metals teleported out of thin air. She set the small treasure in front of the awestruck unicorn with a proud grin. “I have a bit of magic of my own. Surely this will be enough to replace your dark-spectacles and whatever else I destroyed.”

Canvas stood still with wide eyes and a gaping maw. Never before had he seen such riches, even if it was only an amount that could fit within Nyvena’s paw. The shine of the doubloons and extraordinary gems rivaled those of the highest-end of Carousel Boutique garments and looked as if it was worth enough to cover his cost of living for the next year!

“This will surely be put to good use…” Canvas’ voice was slow and distant, as though his mind was locked in the deepest of trances.

“It had better. It’s almost all I have… left—” Nyvena’s speech turned into a deep yawn as she laid herself to rest upon her side.

“By the way, I don’t think I got—”

“It is Kenanshar Nyvena.” Her timing made Canvas wonder if Nyvena’s powers included the ability to sense one’s thoughts.

“Can I call you—?”

“Whatever suits you, Unicorn.”

Canvas did not agree with being referred to as ‘Little Horned One,’ or simply ‘Unicorn,’ but he figured that he was in no position to argue. The exhausted dragoness turned over, facing away from Canvas. In a matter of minutes she began to let out a rumbling snore. Not wanting to seem greedy, he sat still and waited a few more moments before slipping the treasure into a saddlebag with both forelegs and protectively huddling over the precious cargo.

As the colt began to doze, he could not help but stare at Nyvena’s back, wings, and tail. The longer he gazed upon her form, Canvas decided that the hideous depictions of dragons he had seen all throughout his life were not accurate in the least. Even his drawings that portrayed them as wondrous and epic creatures did not do her form justice in the unicorn’s eyes.

At first Canvas’ equine instincts refused to allow him rest. After all, a giant flying predator slumbered only meters away. Even with his preoccupation with thinking about Nyvena’s carnivorous tendencies, the art pony’s attention diverted to the many pairs of feral, gleaming eyes watching him from where the moonlight did not reach. The wary creatures chittered amongst themselves, as if debating whether to venture into the clearing. Thanks to Nyvena, none of them dared to try. Canvas considered for the first time about the perks of having a dragoness around. Despite the risk, he did feel protected by her to an extent, allowing him to sleep with a little more peace of mind.

Comments

[N00813]

The second half of the chapter is italicized. I've spotted a {/i somewhere.

[AtomicAlton]

i'm really liking this so far. i'm glad u added that Nyvena has feathered wings, which some dragons actually have. keep it up my good sir!

[Canvas_Shade]

1115206 Thanks for spotting it--I'll give that a quick fix (I'm still new to how the site works)

[Blue Horizon]

Just to let everypony know, Don't call him Canvas Shade, Call him Coffee!

Also, as I promised I said I would read the story once you posted, it is officially in my Read Later list (Which I shall clean out today!)

[Canvas_Shade]

1115740 Eh, call me whatever works for you, lol. And I'm glad you'll be getting to read it soon!

[Blue Horizon]

1115836
Seriously, everpony call him Coffee!
and to all that are curious, yes that is me in his picture.

But honestly, congrats! Ill get off your comments until I get useful and read it!

[Arcadian Legend]

Hey this is pretty good!

[Listener]

Interesting.... Really looking forward to more!

[Multiversity]

The present tense is distracting, but I like the story itself. Proceed.

[Canvas_Shade]

1116644 Sorry that the tense is distracting--I tend to write like that by default. However, I will try other styles for future stories that I write

[airbournesquid]

a fair premise, and a pretty well executed intro. Alright, i'm interested.

[soulwinds]

1115848 Why coffee?

Good story, can't wait for more, specifically, the part about the former mate
That's going to end soooo well

[Blue Horizon]

1121188 When Coffee first drew his pony self, it looked like he had been drinking Coffee for three weeks straight, and the color reminded me of the color of certain Coffee Drinks. Than i started calling him Coffee,when he said he hated Coffee (the drink), it just stuck. Personally, when it comes to Coffee; hate the drink, love the pony! (in the brotherly way)

[Warren Peace]

Well I enjoyed it, but I felt like it could have been better. I felt like some of the actions were just a bit to rushed, were not entirely believable, or could have been presented better.

But that's mostly just me being picky. I'll keep an eye on this as it looks very promising. Good luck.

[Connor Shadows]

1115544 Holy book worms this is a long fic isn't it i'm gonna have to get a free day and start reading it. I'm cursed with a love to read but i read very slowly.

[Connor Shadows]

this chpt. was a good read i'll be sure to read the whole thing