Spike's trip to Apocrypha

by Damascus1776

Chapter 1

Spike the Dragon sat on the rooftop balcony of the Golden Oaks Library. The night air nipped at his scales, and yet, he chose not to go inside. He had far too much on his mind. As he looked into the sky, the stars called out to him. Twilight’s borderline obsession with constellations provided him with the knowledge to read the sky.

The stars speak in a language impossible for mortals to understand. For their language is quiet and slow, yet at the same time it is constant and sparse. They speak of possibilities yet to come, or perhaps those that have already come, and have been forgotten.

Among the bravest of society, those who have dared to look beyond the night sky, the stars have filled them with a horrible terror. To stare into a truly infinite universe; one cannot imagine a worse truth. For whom is to say that the universe does not stare back?

Spike was snatched from his stupor as he heard a very loud woo, presumably from Pinkie Pie. With his wits then about him, he realized the air was indeed quite chilly, and not at all suited for a cold-blooded reptile like himself. The warmth of the fire drew him in as an addict to familiarity.

The door slowly cast light into his darkened bedroom. There upon his bed sat the infernal tome, an issue of Power Ponies, but not just any old issue. It was the issue where the Masked Matter-Horn and Radiance teamed up to fight off the scouting party of an alien invasion. The only problem was, the story resonated with Spike, maybe just a little too much.

The moment his eyes fell upon the lanky form of said alien, thousands of images flashed through his head of his friends fighting off the alien menace. As, honestly, that would not even rank in the top three weirdest things to have happened to them.

The newest conundrum, of which the world seemed to have an endless supply, was whether or not he should continue reading the book, join the party, or go to bed. Joining the party was out of the question as Twilight had barred his entry due to the presence of alcohol.

In a bout of unease, he grabbed the comic and hastily flung it out of his sight. It landed, sloppily, at the foot of Twilight’s bed, the pages folding over on themselves. His head hit the pillow, and he was out like a light, or at least that’s what he would have wanted to happen, however, his obsessive nature forbade sleep until the comic was properly stashed away.

With an effortful grunt, he flipped the blanket off, and reached for the comic. From his vantage point, he was able to see under Twilight’s bed. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a large, black book.

“Well now, you don’t belong there,” he reached for the book and brought it fully into his vision. While it wasn’t un-characteristic of Twilight to leave books scattered around the place, this just didn’t quite fit the standard. The book itself was also strange. Its binding was decrepit, and yet it was stable. Though it seemed the book would fall apart at the very notion of reading it, within Spike’s claws, he felt no give.

He glanced at the spine of the book, and though it was indeed decrepit, he was able to make out two words: Waking Dreams.

---

Spike sat upon Twilight’s admittedly comfy bed, holding the apparently ancient book in his hands. His fingers drummed its spine in concentration. His previous conundrum had evolved into a full blown predicament.

His body begged for sleep, yet his mind begged for answers. His curiosity eventually won out, and his claw slowly lifted the cover of the page. He found before him, a book. Honestly, what else did he expect?

His eyes creeped along the lines, “The eyes, once bleached by falling stars of utmost revelation, will forever see the faint insight drawn by the overwhelming question, as only the True Enquiry shapes the edge of thought.”

He didn’t even have time to question the absurdity of what he just read before the pages went completely black with ink.

“What the hay,” he dropped the book atop Twilight’s comforter, where it lay flat on its spine. From his angle, Spike was able to see a very long vine-like appendage lift from the book and creep towards him. His reservations left him along with his fatigue, and he expelled a plume of fire at the appendage.

The flames seemed to pass right through it, and slam into the book itself. The book however, sustained no damage, unlike Twilight’s comforter which now sported a burn in the shape of said book. Spike was helpless as the appendage wrapped around his neck, and pulled him into the book. His vision went dark.

---

When he awoke, the surroundings assaulted his senses. A foul, thick odor permeated his nose. A low, droning wailing seemed at the same time to be infinitely far away, and yet directly in his ear. Most distressing of all was the sight laid before him. Gone was Twilight’s bed, replaced by a horizon of green and white. He stood upon an island of cobblestone in a sea of black.

To his side, he saw the very same book that just abducted him. In an effort to put as much distance as possible between him and the book, he clawed himself away from the book and toward the black sea.

He inched closer to the liquid, and peered over the edge, where only his reflection stared back. Shakily, he dropped his index claw into the liquid, only to snatch it back. The liquid seeped into his scales, burning his flesh, yet not actually harming the skin. It was as though the liquid harmed him, rather than his body.

“What is this place,” he asked aloud.

Apocrypha

“What the hay was that,” he covered his eyes with his hands. The voice had no point of origin, he felt as though it was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Fear not young Spike, no harm will come to you here.

“How do you know my name?”

I know all there is to know. Such as a name is trivial for one such as I. Please, young Spike, open your eyes.

Against his body’s best wishes, he slowly removed his claws from his face. The entity before him was indescribable. No Shape, no texture, nothing that could even indicate it was alive. There was one discernible feature however, the eye. In the center of the entity sat the great eye of a goat.

“Who, or what are you? Where am I?”

I am Hermeaus Mora, daedric prince of knowledge, and this…is my plane of Oblivion, Apocrypha. Welcome.

“Why did you bring me here?”

Interesting, what leads you to believe I am the one to bring you here? Why would you not assume that you came…to me?

“You said this is your plane, and that book,” he pointed at Waking Dreams on the floor, “brought me here,”.

Did you not choose to read the book?

“Well, I did open the book, but I didn’t want to come here.”

Such wants are…irrelevant. You held the book in your own…hands, and against all of your knowledge, you opened it. Your curiosity led you here, but it did not bring you.

“How do I go home?”

If you tire of this plane…read your book again. You shall return to your own realm, for a time. The lure of Apocrypha will draw you back.

He picked up the book, and pressed his claws between the pages.

Before you go, if you were to impart a donation of knowledge into my realm…I would greatly appreciate that.

Spike wanted nothing more than to rip the book’s pages open and return to his home. Yet, he did not.

“Donation? Didn’t you say you knew everything?“

The…tactile…existence of facts allows them to be easily categorized. What I seek is far more ephemeral.

“What do you want?”

Reason. It is one thing to know the stars align…it is quite another to learn why.

What I seek from you…Spike…is just that. Why are you not called by your true name?

“My what now,” he shook his head, “Spike is my true name, I’ve had it my entire life.”

Interesting… Tell me Spike, what does the name Durinaar mean to you?

“Should I recognize it? ‘Cause I don’t.”

Fascinating, a Dovah that does not even know his own tongue. Young Spike, you have given me a great boon of knowledge this day, and as a reward, I shall grant you the knowledge of your true name.

“Whoa now, let’s just hold on a second. Firstly, Spike is still my name. Secondly, what good is knowing a name if I don’t know the language it’s written in?”

Fret not, for it was always my intention to grant you my knowledge of the Dovah tongue along with your name.

“And if I refuse?”

Your curiosity will go unsated, and you will inevitably find your way back to me. Back to this exact scenario.

“You…won’t force me to learn it? That’s how Twilight always does.”

Knowledge is not a book that needs to be jammed onto a shelf. Knowledge is the flow of the words on the pages. You can not force knowledge upon one who does not already wish to learn.

“Ok, well… Then I accept your reward.”

Very good

Rushing wind filled Spike’s eardrums as his mind was imparted knowledge of Dovah tongue. He sealed his eyes as thousands of years of language ingrained itself.

You understand it now. Don’t you Durinaar?

“Yes,” he opened his eyes, now completely void of curiosity, “I do.”

“Dur-in-aar. Cursed. Master. Servant. I am Durinaar.”

Author's Note:

First fic y'all, tell me what you think.

Bear in mind, I have no editors or proofreaders. There will be mistakes, I'm sorry.

Comments

[Solidspider]

Pretty good