Spike's trip to Apocrypha

by Damascus1776

Chapter 3

The silence of the Everfree Forest was battered by the pitter patter of small dragon feet, and the panting of a very tired whelp. He ran, and ran, and despite the quiet peace of the forest, the sounds of wrath echoed ever louder in his head, the wrath of his friends. The further he ran, the less he was able to do so. Cold air stabbed at his outer scales like claws, sapping his heat, and his strength.

He continued his charge until a fallen branch snared his foot, bringing him down. The dirt was freezing cold. The sights that surrounded him were that of fallen trees and trampled brush. The clearing appeared to be the aftermath of a manticore mating season. A deep shiver ran up his spine, though, he wasn't quite sure if the weather was the cause. Whatever the case, warmth had become his priority. There sat a pre-splintered pile of wood, perfect firewood. His body had stiffened significantly, forcing him to crawl towards the kindling. With a deep inhale, Spike put forth effort into a blast of fire that should've ignited the kindling and provided him warmth. Should've.

Despite his great effort, the fire that he wished to put forth materialized as a thick, black smoke. Once again, with a deep inhale, smoke. It was significantly thinner this time. Once more did he try, and once more did smoke come out, barely a mist at this point.

"Why isn't it working?"

A salty liquid began to seep down his face once again. In an effort to conserve what little body heat he had left, he swept the dirt around him, creating a shallow crater. He crawled into the pit and surrounded himself with the nearby kindling.

A flurry was his mind, the events of the past hour swirled like a whirlpool. He saw himself surrounded by his friends, their faces contorted into grimaces. He was then surrounded by the putrid odor of Apocrypha, and with the smell, came the visage of the prince. The disgustingly gangly experience of conversing with it gave rise to a deep hatred within Spike.

No matter the thought, however, it all kept slithering back to the moment in the bedroom. Within his dream, he had spoken a word, and yet it had real life consequences. It was almost as if...

"I said the word out loud in my sleep!"

---

The whirlwind had calmed for the moment. Spike threw the excess insulation off him, and stood despite his body's fault. The word, what he wanted, echoed in his mind. He gathered a nice amount of wood, and calmed himself as much as the cold would allow. With a deep inhale, he spoke the word...

YOL

Even before the word had finished, he felt the warmth, the faad, spread throughout his body. When the feeling met his mouth, a gout of orange fire erupted, striking the kindling and igniting a fire. There he stood, in front of a fire, one he created nonetheless, and yet he couldn't believe it. All he had done was speak, and...well, fire.

The seconds turned to minutes, and the fire began to slowly wither. The returning cold snapped him back to his senses, and he did search for firewood.

After he had gathered what he saw as an adequate supply, Spike resettled into the pit. With the newfound heat of the fire, and the effects of running through the forest beginning to catch up with him, it did not take long before the small dragon fell into slumber.

---

Twilight Sparkle's eyes fluttered open with a terrible slowness. She lifted her muzzle, and came with it, the book she was sleeping on. Her purple aura surrounded the book and separated it from her face. With the lifting of her head came the unmistakable feeling of nausea. The nausea was accompanied by a splitting headache that threatened to steal her consciousness. Despite the fire, the temperature could at best be described as sub-optimal. At that moment, she could think of nothing more than her warm bed, and fluffy comforter.

Each step towards her room felt like scaling a vertical surface. The path was long and arduous, yet in the end, Twilight found her treasure, her beloved bed. Her magical aura lifted the blanket from the mattress, and in she slipped. Her head found her pillow, and never before had such a harmonious relationship been created. There she slept, for innumerable hours.

It was only the pecking of Owlowiscious' beak that allowed her the gift of awaking. The feeling of tiredness was subservient to the feeling of cotton in her mouth, or at least that's how she perceived it. She rose, and allowed her hooves freedom to stretch. Only after the magnificence of the stretch did the aftereffects of the party find her. A dull throbbing permeated her mind.

"What do you want Owlowiscious?"

Hoo

Twilight's mental faculties all but ground to a halt as she tried to decode the cryptic hints of her most faithful bird.

"Alright already, I'll get you some breakfast. Where's Spike anyway? It was his turn to make breakfast for us."

Hoo

"You're an amazing conversationalist, you know that?"

She tossed away her comforter, and planted her hooves on the floor of her...very, very messy room. Her eyes darted across the floor, and spied a substantial mess had manifested. The epicenter of which was on Spike's side. only then was it apparent Spike's basket was missing. Her headache seemed to dull significantly, and her body temperature rose.

Her hooves clattered against the floor as she searched for her assistant. Up and down the stairs she ran, all the while searching. "Spike! Where are you, Spike?"

She halted at the beckoning of Owlowiscious in her room. When she entered, the sight of Owlowiscious perched upon a large, black book greeted her. The owl's claws wrapped around the cover of the book, and he flapped his wings, peeling the bindings apart, exposing the elderly pages within. As though history was a song, it too was repeated. A long, slender vine snaked out of the book, and wrapped itself around Twilight's midsection. Before she could even protest, the book had claimed her.

---

Her vision returned, and was assaulted with the sight of Apocrypha. Deep within the foundations of her sentience, she was privy to a kind of fear unknown to most past foal hood. Her body, the hooves, front and back, would've been content to become a fixed point in the universe, never moving again, no matter the consequence. Her brain asserted its power over her limbs, and forced them forward. Down the cobbled path, in the same style of Spike, did she travel.

Who dares to enter my realm unannounced?

The voice came from everywhere, and nowhere. It was desperately far away, it was against her eardrums.

"Who is that? Where am I? Where is Spike?", her questions came not of genuine curiosity, but of a primal confusion.

You...are an acquaintance of Durinarr...

"What are you talking about? I just want Spike back, and I'll leave."

Please...calm yourself Twilight...Sparkle...

"How do you know my name?"

So alike...the two of you are...he asked of me the same

"He? You mean Spike? Please, I'll do anything, just please give him back to me!", her voice wavered significantly.

Anything...are you certain of your...conviction?

"Yes.", her answer was without doubt.

I may request something of you in the future...but for now...I shall tell you all you must know...