A Reservist
A little silver bell tinkled as the door swung open.
"Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where-" That was as far as Rarity got before her mind processed who was standing in front of her. Then the words dissolved into a gasp of disbelief that she had not used since Sapphire Shores strode into her little shop. "S-Sir Fancypants!"
"Well, I certainly hope I am." The stallion chuckled. "How are you today, Miss Rarity?"
"Well, I..." She forced a smile, shuffling to the side to block his view of a macaroni collage Sweetie Belle had left out on a table. Macaronis were much cheaper than gemstones, with the added bonus that Spike did not salivate quite so much if he stumbled across the finished product. They also looked horridly juvenile! She desperately hoped that he had not noticed, no designer worthy of Equestria's highest society would have such things lying about her workplace. "I'm humbled that you came all this way. Really, all you had to do was send a letter, I'd have been more than happy to come to Canterlot." The seamstress laughed nervously as she wrapped a few dresses in her magic and tried to put them into some semblance of order. Oh, why was he here now? The boutique was such a mess, he would probably turn about and storm away in disgust! Of all the worst possible times, this was-
"There are some things that letters cannot say. I am here with a message, though." He adjusted his monocle, and with a glow of his horn gently stalled the half-finished dress she was trying to hide. The mare blushed, then hung her head in shame as she set it back on the table. He let out a warm chuckle."There now. I cannot stand useless ponies, and I will not have an artist tearing apart her workspace on my account. I am the one intruding like an elephant in a carving hut."
"Oh, not at all!" The mare assured him. "I just- I'm so unused to receiving such esteemed gentlecolts as yourself, and it's sort of the off season right now, and this morning I finished making a new ensemble that I'm still not quite satisfied with, and the mailmare just stopped by to ask about that dress for her daughter..." She bit her tongue to stem the rambling stream, her cheeks turning almost as red as the work glasses on her face. Then she blinked. "What was that about a message?"
He smiled and stepped a little closer, bringing the scabbard on his off side into the other unicorn's line of sight. A ray of sunlight fell upon the golden insignia of the Equestrian Guard engraved upon it, weathered by decades of service. "The regards of Her Grand Royal Highness, Princess Celestia."
Rarity felt the blood drain from her face. The blush of embarrassment vanished, and her eyes widened until her blue irises could hardly be seen. "Oh. No."
"Oh, quite so." Sir Fancypants replied with a roguish grin. "I'll confess that it's been more than a few years since I was on active duty, but once an Expeditioner, always a Expe-"
Unfortunately, rather than feeling calmed by thoughts of Equestria's finest ascending the highest mountains and venturing into the dark corners of the world, Rarity's pulse quickened. She was far from the first to notice that Expeditioner sounded an awful lot like Executioner. A military engineer had even taken advantage of the similarity when naming a new variant of the Equestrian Guard's venerable main battle tank. The fashionista was already on pins and needles, and when Sir Fancypants began to reach toward his blade for a ceremonial flourish, she threw herself at his front hooves.
"Oh, please, don't! I'm so sorry, I knew I shouldn't have sent that letter to the Princess!" Tears streamed from her eyes, and she clung to his fetlocks as she plead for her life. "It was far too rude of me, I am a terrible wretch of a mare, please don't kill me!"
It was his turn to blink and smile nervously. "I... cannot say that such a thing ever crossed my mind."
"Then... banishment?" the mare gasped. The Expeditioners were an elite branch of Equestria's military, known for taking on any assignment, no matter how hostile the conditions. It was a more than fitting punishment for such a presumptuous fool as her. "Are you here to drag me away in chains, far from civilization to the uncharted-"
"No." The old unicorn chuckled. "No, none of that, Miss Rarity. I'm quite sorry, I should have known how worried you were about this matter by the tone of my orders."
She looked up at him, eyes wide and head tilted to the side in confusion.
He gave her his number-two smile of reassurance, always good for putting a little steel back in the spine of a shellshocked soldier. "I'm here because of my expertise on dragons. You asked certain questions about them, and I have certain knowledge about them. I did command one, after all." A look of ancient pain flickered in his eyes, and the smile fell a bit. "It was... after I left Her Majesty's service, but I suppose that's not quite true. I have always been the same boy who took the Oath of Service on that granite landing pad, even after my medical discharge."
"Oh." Rarity's blush returned, even redder than before. She carefully pushed herself backwards, avoiding eye contact by staring at the floor. "I... oh. I'm sorry." She swallowed. "I've... I've made quite a fool of myself." No, she had completely embarrassed herself in front of the most important stallion in Canterlot! It would be a mercy if he finished her off right now!
A hoof entered her field of vision. "Hmm. No more than I did when I was a grass-green recruit still learning what those little rank bars meant, I'd say. Come now, Miss Rarity, the floor is no place for a lady of your stature."
Still blushing, she let him help her up. Her tongue fumbled for words. "I-"
"You really are quite refreshing, do you know that? All the Canterlot ponies start rambling on about how important they are, but you," he chuckled. "You're not afraid to be a little silly. You remind me much of Fleur." The old stallion let out a happy sigh. "She will miss me, I hope. That is the problem of having the last Crusader for a wife. No matter what, she will outlive me." He grumbled under his breath, "but she still makes me eat healthy. She wants me to last as long as I can, as much for myself as for her."
The designer nodded slowly, cheeks still red. "The... the two of you do make a wonderful couple." Fleur was certainly a lucky girl, but what in Celestia's name did he mean by Crusader?
Sir Fancypants winked at the confused mare. "But, ah, I'm afraid we've started this all wrong. I'm supposed to be here to help, and so far all I've managed to do is frighten you. Hardly a fine beginning to all this, I'd say."
All this was a bit much for her to comprehend. Rarity took a deep breath. Reassured by the kind smile on the elder unicorn's muzzle, she glanced about her boutique. It really was not as much of an uncouth disaster as she had feared, but why did this sort of thing always happen on the worst possible day? Her first act was a simple one. She removed her red glasses from her face and set them next to Sweetie Belle's macaroni art.
"I..." No, not I. This was not about her, it was about him coming all this way to speak with her. By the Princess' command, no less. "You mentioned dragons." She hesitated, unsure how much he knew about her foalish cry for knowledge. "Do... do you have a letter from Celestia? Or..." Wait. He had commanded a dragon?
The old soldier shook his head. "No, nothing so formal as that." He chuckled again. "Ah, this reminds me of the way the Pegasi used to trade messages. A commander would take one of her slaves, shave his mane, tattoo a secret communication on the bare skin, then let the hair grow back before sending him off. When he got there, the other commander would shave him and read the message. Well, fortunately for my mane, Celestia's a bit more modern in her thinking. You see, my dear mare, I am the letter, albeit my script was penned by experience, with blood and steel rather than ink. You have asked some very excellent questions, the kind of questions that should not be answered by a message, but by a messenger. If Her Majesty came herself, or asked you to Canterlot, it would attract far too much attention. Also, I dare say that I am a far less imposing conversational partner than the mare who raises the sun. So, she has called me up again."
The seamstress smiled, brushing a few stray strands of her purple mane back into place. This was... unexpected, but far from unwelcome. Perhaps this personal touch was why Celestia's response was so long in coming?
He rolled his shoulders, a youthful gleam flickering in his eyes. "In your letter you mentioned that you had consulted many learned sources, and I can assure you that you do indeed know more about dragons than most ponies in Equestria." With a sly wink, he continued, "I am not one of those ponies. I am a retired officer of the Equestrian Expeditionary Corps, and the former captain of a wonderfully effective little band of mercenaries you never have heard of. For my exceptional service to Equestria, the precise nature of which I am not allowed to disclose, I was knighted, as you well know. I have seen all manner of incredible things under Celestia's sun, including a few that crawled the earth since long before that power Solar was vested in her. Her Grand Royal Highness's Armed Forces have always been her response when liberty is in question, so she decided that I would be a suitable answer for a question of history." The stallion blushed slightly, and indicated his scabbard with a nod of his head. "As for the sword, well, I figured that since I couldn't walk through your small, beautiful town with my brass and braids, I'd just bring along a faithful friend."
How was she supposed to respond to that? She had heard the rumors about his military career. Everypony in Canterlot knew that the old unicorn earned his knighthood long ago, yet still had the vigor of a young colt. She also knew of the Expeditionary Corps' renown as Celestia's Own, and how once sworn in you were only called an ex-Expeditioner if you were kicked out. But to have him here, in little old Ponyville, offering his wisdom with a blush of embarrassment that almost matched her own? Unthinkable. "I... you honor me, Sir Fancypants."
"The honor is all mine, Miss Rarity. You have certainly earned my service." Noting that the look of confusion had returned to her face, he clarified. "You are one of the Elements of Harmony, yes? Thrice-savior of Equestria, if one presumes that Sombra's first act after regaining power would have been an offensive against the Princesses who defeated him long ago?" The old soldier waved a hoof at a dress awaiting repair. It was missing part of its cloud-like frill, and had a tear in the multicolored train.
Rarity winced. She had meant to mend that for Rainbow Dash long ago, but something came up... and as much as the pegasus assured her that she loved the dress, she never seemed to have an occasion to wear it. Her eyes turned back to Sir Fancypants. He wore his sharply cut suit very well, and his bowler was cocked at a jaunty angle.
"You and your companions also laid low Nightmare Moon and overthrew Discord. In your short time of service to the country you have always acted with the spirit of a true Minutemare." His expression hardened, and his words lost some of the jovial tone as he sought to drive home his point. "Make no mistake, you preserved the lives of many young girls and boys in the uniform when you broke Sombra. If you had failed... well, suffice it to say that while you were in the Crystal Empire, I was called to an audience with the restored Nightbringer. Your actions ensured that what we discussed remained safely in the realm of the hypothetical. The least I can do is heed my Princess' orders, and give aid and comfort to an honored citizen."
Rarity rubbed a fetlock against her other front leg. "Really, Sir Fancypants, I'm sure you are a far more worthy protector of Equestria than a hopeful designer. And... and Spike really was the one who saved the Empire." She could never forget that horrible sight, his little arms flailing as he fell. Her eyes focused on the floor as the scene flashed through her mind again, and she quietly cursed herself for not having the courage to watch. In her mind, he would always be falling, for she never saw the moment when he was caught. Did he even realize how close he came to death?
Sir Fancypants smiled kindly. He had been attributed many victories, but knew that while one soldier might turn the tide of a battle, it was the army who won the war. For want of a nail...
The mare glanced back up, still embarrassed by her earlier overreaction. Her eyes darted over her visitor as she tried to find some way to feel less like a foal who has just upset the punch bowl. "It was too much for you to come all this way, but I'm forgetting my manners! Let me get your hat for you." With a glow of her horn she took his bowler and set it gently on a rack by the door. "Just a moment, and I'll have a kettle on. You will be here long enough for tea, I hope?"
The old soldier nodded. "Quite so. Some things require a dialog."
"Then I'll be right back. Do make yourself comfortable!" She gave him a charming smile, trotted to the kitchen, and promptly let the calm mask slip. Sir Fancypants was in her boutique to tell her about dragons, sent by Celestia herself! This was far beyond anything she had conceived! Briefly she wondered if some cosmic power was toying with her, if a simple letter from the Princess would not have been sufficient answer. The fashionista forced a chuckle at the thought. Her hooves were trembling, so she took a glass and held it under the tap with her magic, then downed the water in one long chug. It was hardly sparkling, but it started to calm her nerves as soon as it reached her stomach. The mare pushed all her fears to one side as she took down her finest kettle and cups. This was not a time for panic, this was a time for calm. She had been in enough fashion shows to know how to beat stage fright. If Celestia was annoyed, she would have sent a disapproving message. If she was open to the idea of the dragon she had raised... well, having a relationship with a pony, she would have sent a kind note, full of her ageless wisdom. The kettle was full, and the stove heated. It would come to a boil soon enough. If a letter would have covered either of the Princess' responses, why then was Sir Fancypants sitting in her boutique?
The answer seemed simple enough. To take her measure as a mare. Rarity glanced into a mirror, tossed her mane, and wiped a few flecks of golden sparkle from one cheek. If that was the game, then she would win. She would prove herself, not just for her own sake, but to show Celestia that Spike had a crush on a mare worthy of his affection, and was far too wise of a little dragon to fall for any old girl. The white unicorn trotted back into her boutique proper and flashed a dazzling smile at the patient stallion. She had planned to open with a kind word about his wife, but he stole the initiative with a question that stopped her mid-step.
"Are you familiar with the main battle tank employed by the Equestrian Guard, the Sherman Russ?"
The fashionista blinked a few times as she continued to the table. "I have never seen one..." she sat down across from him. "Well, drawings, of course, but not a real one."
"Yes, the conundrum." He chuckled. "Everypony knows what a 'tank' is, something big and metal, hard to stop. Few have seen what they truly are." The stallion adjusted his monocle. From his vest, he produced a small book, completely wrapped in what looked like leather. Rarity could have sworn that she saw the tough material form a seam of its own volition when Sir Fancypants tried to open it. He flipped through, then laid it flat for her to see a page that held a single large photograph. "Fewer still have crewed them."
Rarity leaned closer to the book, even daring to set a hoof next to it. She felt an odd warmth from the covering, as though it were alive, but quickly dismissed the thought as impossible. The stallion in the picture was far younger than the one sitting next to her. He perched atop what looked like a wall of metal, another soldier on each side of him and two more below. The image was old and showed fold-lines, one ragged corner stained with something that had dried brown, but all the important details remained. She noticed that one of the other soldiers had her mane cut in a short mohawk and stripes running across her fur. On closer inspection, Rarity felt certain that the mare was a zebra. Another pony wore red robes that hid her face, save for two bright eyes. She cradled a toolbox almost as large as she was, etched with runes and technomagical iconography that made no sense to the seamstress. A metal claw curled from behind her, but Rarity did not even consider that the mare might have replaced her beautiful tail with something so cold. Why would anypony do that? Between the two mares was the young Fancypants, his smile just as charming as it was now, and his eyes hidden by the type of sunglasses Rainbow Dash favored.
Leaning against the metal wall below them, her head level with the stallion's hind hooves, was a wild eyed pegasus with a band of cloth binding her wings close against her sides. Now that Rarity looked closer, she could see bandages on all of the ponies in the picture. On the pegasus' flank was a cutie mark of a storm cloud hammering down white-hot bolts, and "Hail-Fire" was stenciled on the front of her uniform. Opposite of her, standing on stiff legs with a crazy grin that brought to mind memories of Twilight under stress, was an aqua blue earth pony. Her name was "Larami", but her cutie mark was obscured by water damage to the picture. The poor girl looked like an overpressurized gauge. It took Rarity's eyes a few moments to shift from the ponies' clothes to the wall of metal they were clustered around, but her mind required only an instant to comprehend the massive treads, sharp prow, and ominous barrels of a war machine.
"Adamantium monsters," Sir Fancypants confirmed with quiet reverence. "Rolling bastions. An armored spear to strike down all who rise against this land. We love peace, and so we like our wars to be as brief as possible."
"And you... you drove one?" She asked tentatively.
"I captained a Sherman Russ, Ryza-pattern, a mighty tank that fired small suns at an awe-inspiring rate. Think of a small rolling castle with a crew of five or so wedged around a reactor that had a point oh-five percent chance of some catastrophic failure for every shot of the main cannon." He chuckled. "Mmmm. They called us Paladins, because nopony crewed a Ryza-pattern who wasn't right with Celestia or wrong in the head. My, but it was worth it. No matter where we rolled, you would always hear a cheer from the infantry who saw us." He smiled at the memory. The old stallion had started off as one of those poor mudsloggers.
The designer nodded. "I can see why Rainbow Dash named her turtle after one of these. It certainly looks unstoppable."
"They are." He sighed. "Until... one day when everything that can go wrong does, and you're trying to hold a containment aura together long enough for your gunner to drag you to safety. Everypony else got clear, but..." The stallion touched the left side of his face. "As I said, either right with Celestia or wrong in the head. That was how Knight-Commander Fancypants got a medical discharge."
She shivered. Everypony knew about the Equestrian Guard, but you thought of the Royal Guard in gold armor who protected Canterlot, or the Wonderbolts. This picture showed five ponies, weary from a battle she would never know about. Standing next to her was a pony who wore a monocle, and she doubted very much that it was purely for style. Rarity realized with a heavy heart that this was what Discord had meant when he had called Celestia "grim". He did not speak of the kind Princess that they knew, but the unbreakable will of two sisters who had defeated him so long ago that it boggled the designer's mind even to think of it. That victory had come at a great cost. It had been preserved through the centuries by ponies like the one standing next to her, soldiers who were willing to put their lives on the line for the freedom of those they loved. Somehow, in the grim darkness of this picture, she saw more hope than in all the flashes of Canterlot culture combined. Rarity looked up at the old soldier. There was only one thing she could say. "T-Thank you."
Sir Fancypants raised an eyebrow, confused for a moment, then smiled at her. "It was my honor to serve, Miss Rarity. I signed up for it. You rose to the occasion when your country needed you, and that is a far more heartfelt thanks than any words could ever express." He paused, searching for the right turn of phrase. "As an observer of certain upper levels of society, such as they are, hmm, my opinion is that true patriots thank far less than they act. One might say that in all labor there is profit, but mere talk leads only to slavery." That was pretty close to an old dragon proverb.
The mare glanced away, trying to decide if she should ask the question that had risen in her mind. She gathered her courage, looked up into his eyes, and very nearly lost her nerve. "A... about Spike. What will become of him?" Though she was a seamstress and not a scholar, she could join the dots together well enough. "I think I understand why you showed me this. You commanded a dragon and a tank. Both are unstoppable... and very dangerous." She swallowed hard, then continued. "I... Sir Fancypants, please, I must know..."
Indeed she must, but she did not want to. Once she knew, once she heard him say that one day Spike would become that monster again... Still, she had to ask. She had sent that cursed letter against her own better judgement, and now Sir Fancypants was in her boutique. If she choked, he would return to Canterlot and condemn her as a weak-willed mare before the Princess of the Sun. Possibly he would even caution Celestia against allowing the young boy near such a mare, as it might hasten his decline. But her fear was strong. Her tongue had dried, and all the strength she had gathered in her kitchen evaporated like steam from a teakettle. She shrunk back, despising herself as she felt her muscles cringe, and looked down at the floor.
A hoof gently lifted her chin. He smiled kindly at her, his eyes twinkling with empathy. "Miss Rarity, it is not the absence of obstacles that makes a hero. It is the overcoming of them." Another old saying, this one from the zebra tribes he had spent so many years among. Sometimes he wondered if he was still a pony inside, or some curious mixture of Draconic metal and Zau insight. He certainly would have married a zebra, or two... but all the girls he fancied had a rather unfortunate way of dying. Even Fleur. However, she could get right back up, screaming with powers cosmic. Her outer beauty was a reflection of her inner purity, her devotion to the ideal of Harmony.
Hmm. There was a thought. "As I said before, you remind me of Fleur. She has slain dragons and modeled before tens of thousands of eyes, but when we are together in public she almost hides behind me." He paused, searching for just the right words. "We all feel fear, Miss Rarity. I know that you have overcome the fear in your heart before." The old soldier leaned back as she bit her lip, giving her a little room to breathe. He kept his left front hoof under her chin, and after a moment she lightly gripped it. The mare could feel the scars under his neatly groomed fur, and seemed to borrow strength from his vast reserves. He urged her softly, "ask, and it will be answered."
"I don't know if I will like the answer." The mare replied honestly. She stepped away and gathered her courage. "Sir Fancypants... am I to understand that you have read my letter?"
He nodded. "The parts Celestia saw fit to show me, yes."
The young unicorn winced. "I must appear to be quite the deviant."
"Oh, Rarity." The old soldier sighed, pressing a hoof against his face. "I have seen many who deserve that label in my time. You would be disgusted with what unrestrained power can do to the mind." He shifted, and the sunlight glinted off the golden icon on his scabbard again. Sir Fancypants knew that nopony, no matter how pure, was above the corruption of absolute power. That was why his love was all but the last of her order, and by royal decree no more were to be so imbued. That was why the Expeditionary Corps were not sworn to a Princess' will, as the Nightguard had been long ago, but to the laws of Equestria. Yes, they were Celestia's Own. Her own sword of Damocles. They hung over the heads of tyrants, and they were sworn to stop her if she ever became one. The New Nightmare Monarchy had not been cast down so that the Princess of the Sun could raise her own empire in its place.
The old soldier felt the memories seeping back into his mind, those things that he would never be able to forget. Luna had helped him since her return, even practicing her dreamwalking in his mind while she reclaimed her powers. Before that, he would toss and turn through the nights, Fleur's embrace the only thing keeping him sane as he fought battles that had already been won. "I have seen perversion, hatred, a lack of all things good. I have seen children who know nothing but war, who fight one another for scraps while their overlords cut their feasts and lick the gravy. I have seen stallions and mares sold and bred to produce superior slaves. I've watched as magic beyond your imagination twisted innocents into unliving murder-puppets."
He turned his head away, but she saw the glimmer of an angry tear before he could blink it back. "Before I was passed off to the Armored Divisions as damaged goods, I was a frontline Expeditioner. I have stared true monsters in the eye, cut out the very heart of evil, and ground tyrants under my treads." In truth, he had deployed far ahead of the frontlines, but that was another part of his life he could never talk about.
Rarity glimpsed the book almost glow with an unexplainable crimson light, as though it were ready to prove every one of the scenes flashing before the stallion's eyes. She blinked. The glow was gone, yet she could not say for certain it had been her imagination.
Sir Fancypants looked back at her, his memories once more locked away. "You are as pure as the freshly-fallen snow in which fillies frolic." He rolled his tongue after finishing the phrase. You couldn't say that five times fast, old boy.
The mare could protest no further. This was her moment, her choice to cower in ignorance or risk knowledge. An idle thought questioned if this was why Celestia had sent him instead of a letter that could be filed away, never opened, forgotten until it was too late. Not so with a messenger. This was her moment. Rarity seized it. "Dragons are much like tanks. They are mighty, unstoppable, but also dangerous. Will... will Spike one day melt down like your tank?" She turned, looking up at him with a determined gaze. "And... and if he does, will he hurt those dear to him?"
"Yes." The stallion said quietly.
Her heart dropped through the floor.
"Yes, if he does melt down, he most certainly will hurt those dear to him. I cannot overstate the amount of damage a dragon can do. They are flying engines of destruction, tunneling terrors, or moving mountains, depending on the adaptation of their bodies. While a tank requires a crew, a dragon is a self-contained weapon. From his claws and breath to his thick scales, he has many tools at his disposal. They trade very little durability for much mobility, and I am sure you have surmised how useful an opposable thumb can be. Worse, their stomachs work far faster than their minds, and they quickly become jaded to the needs of shorter-lived races." He saw the tears beginning to form in her eyes and held up a hoof. "Ah, ah, Miss Rarity. I did not come here to preach doom and gloom. If that was all Her Majesty wanted, she would have left your letter unanswered."
The mare held her head upright. Her voice trembled, "Sir Fancypants, I understand... I understand what he is." She breathed in slowly. "Is that the same as who he is?" Rarity could not know that she was almost echoing the little dragon's own words.
The old soldier smiled at her. "Perhaps you should see for yourself." He flipped forwards in the book of his life, searching for another photograph. "I know you have seen the destructive potential of such great creatures firsthoof. I had to caution you, but that is not all I have come to say." He cleared his throat, and adjusted his monocle. "My dear, long ago dragons were very wise and powerful creatures. What most ponies call dragons are but a pale shadow of their past glory. They are all quite dangerous, for all have a base cunning that should never be underestimated. Fortunately for our civilization, most have little in the way of goals. I am quite sure you have seen the laughable shapes that some grow into."
He let out a warm chuckle, and Rarity found her spirits lifting as she dared to hope. Spike always talked of being a trim and fit knight, not one of the bulbous distortions that they had seen when she tailed him on his quest of self-discovery. He was Twilight's little page, not an anarchistic teenager. She blinked a few times as she realized that teenager in dragon terms probably had at least one more zero than ponies were used to. The mare cleared her throat. "Yes, I have seen some... odd, dragons. I saw what Spike became when he... when the greed inside him came out. And Twilight has told me of what he grew into after he was struck by a pulse of magic." Rarity had heard from her little sister that Spike had once been zapped into a different stage of growth by the purple unicorn, and had treated her friend to lunch as a guise for mining every little detail out of the librarian's memory.
A glimmer sparked in the stallion's eye, and he stopped flipping the pages. "Indeed. Unrestrained growth. A dragon without purpose, without a reason to live save to hoard and sleep."
"Unrestrained?" she echoed, weighting the word just enough that it became a question.
He looked to her and smiled. "It is... tell me candidly, when you saw Spike as that monster, you pitied him, did you not?"
She started to open her mouth, but he quickly amended his statement.
"Not at the first glimpse, of course. One is always terrified at such a sight. I meant later, when you had a moment to contemplate him. He had no purpose, no goal, nothing but an all consuming greed. Mmmm." With a shake of his head, he continued, "he forgot his soul, and became an animal."
Rarity nodded. "Yes. Yes, I pitied him. What else could I do?"
"Of course, you had no idea it was Spike." The stallion paused. "But if you did know... if you could pull him back from the abyss, from giving in completely to that whisper of corruption that lurks in all of us... well, you'd give anything." He glanced away. "Because you won't let something so beautiful slip away, go into the blackness like so many others. No, you'd give anything." His eyes turned back to hers. "Would you not?"
"For him, yes." The mare replied, almost without thinking. For a brief instant she saw the book glow, the pages flip without the touch of hoof or magic, and was almost terrified that she had made some kind of deal without realizing it. Sir Fancypants looked down at the book and sighed quietly.
"That's right, you would." His shoulders slumped. "You'd do anything, because you've seen what lies down that dark road, and you won't let her slip away. You've lost too many already, and she's the only one left who knows."
The mare cocked her head to the side, then realized that the old stallion's words were not meant for her ears. Yet, in a strange way, she knew they were. Otherwise he would not be saying them.
"She's the only one left who's seen the real you, the leader. And she gave it all up to be with you. Immortality." He closed his eyes. "But a vow's a vow, and love didn't annul that vow, it was the seventh seal. So she'll outlive you. You're her anchor, she won't fall while she's leaning on you. She was born for a higher purpose, but old boy, you're the prince she always wanted." A smile crossed his lips. Fleur would sometimes tell him stories about the various princes she had rescued. Some were secretly in league with dark powers, others were simple prudes. So she settled for a down-hab colt who had done alright for himself.
Rarity stepped as close as she dared. The book was open to a picture of Sir Fancypants and Fleur at what could only be their wedding. She stifled a gasp as she realized that Princess Celestia was pronouncing them mare and colt. On the opposing page was a copy of their vows. As she blinked, she could have sworn that the book waggled the corner of a page at her. The mare was beginning to think she was losing her mind. She understood a little more now why the old soldier had come to see her. Celestia had not sent Sir Fancypants here because he was a convenient messenger boy. She had truly shaved his mane and tattooed her messages onto his skin. The scars of war, the courage of one who dared to face evil, and the heart of a pony who loved one who would live far longer than he. She still did not understand what he meant by Crusader, but she did recall that Fleur's cutie mark was for Purity. The stallion in front of her was not just the messenger, his life was the message.
"One of the happiest days I've ever had the pleasure of living through." He said softly. Rarity blushed and backed away, feeling that she had intruded into his privacy. The stallion resumed turning the pages. "Yes, for the ones we love, we would do anything. And she's far more handy with a blade than she lets on, nearly killed me once. Now, Miss Rarity, I've told you these things so that you will believe me when I speak to you of matters that you must take on faith. I can show you pictures of tanks, of old comrades, of my darling... but I have no pictures for some of the things I have come to tell you of. An image is worth a thousand words, but there are some realms that boggle the unprepared mind. I can only tell you of them and trust that you will believe me, because I have so far proven to be an honest witness."
The mare nodded slowly. "I... you've seen the old artifacts, then. I've looked at some of the sketches, seen a few of the things that the old dragons left behind."
"Yes, yes, I've seen those relics crumbling." He turned a page, and then quickly slammed the book shut as something tried to leap off the paper. "Ah-ah, no you don't! You stay right there." The old stallion smiled apologetically. "Yes, I've seen the bones of the old Imperium Dracon. But I'm not here to speak to you of the bone, but the hard muscle, the sharp mind, and yes, even the beating heart." He opened the book once more and continued to page through it.
"Hmm. Now, Miss Rarity, I have cautioned you of what a dragon is capable of when he lets his greed and baser instinct guide him. You know what becomes of a pony who eats too much of the wrong foods, she quickly fattens and becomes unattractive." He paused, then looked at her. "Ah... bother. I didn't mean you, ah... purely an objective... you're a very attractive young-"
She tossed her mane back and smiled at him, feeling some of her worry melt away. "Do stop, Fancypants, you're a married stallion after all."
He sighed in relief. "Dragons are... extremely adaptive creatures. Some have wings, some do not. Some see in the dark, and others can smell a gemstone under a sea of lava. But I did not come to tell you of all dragons, for that would take till doomsday. I have come to tell you of those old, wise dragons and their ways. They are the ones who are worthy by blood and glory to rule over their race." The stallion turned one final page and waved her over to the table. "I know they are real, for I have seen the last great bastion of their kind. It is the City of Aspirations, below the end of the world. It can only be found by dreamers, and many dragons think it nothing more than a myth, even as they slumber for centuries in search of it."
Rarity's brow furrowed as she pondered his words. She knew she could trust what he said, but that did not make it easier to understand. "Then... that red dragon we evicted, the one who was planning to take a hundred-year nap..."
The stallion nodded. "Precisely. When dragons are old enough to seek out that city in the dreamtime, they often dedicate large swaths of their lives to it, much as we Expeditioneers might embark on some crazy adventure that could take a decade." He chuckled. "But you must have more than a dream to find that city. You must truly know yourself." The old soldier smiled. "And... well, I cheated. I had a guide. She helped make up for my bad eye." His hoof rested on another image.
In this picture, a young Fancypants sat on a rock, his saddlebag lying on the ground next to him and a bedroll spread out next to a firepit. Linen wrappings covered the left side of his body, and he wore an eyepatch over the eye that now had a monocle. Curled up atop his saddlebag, her jaws working on the last bits of a freshly-caught fish, was a lanky black cat. Rarity noticed something oddly familiar about her eyes, but was too distracted by the stallion's bandages to mention it.
"Yes, that was all there was of me after the medical discharge. Any sane boy would have gone home, lived off his pension, but not me. I couldn't give it up. So, I went hunting legends. I saw many of those relics, and I learned what I could from them. I found the last city of the Great Old Ones, Miss Rarity." He chuckled. "Took me more years than I'd like to admit, but it was worth it. What we think of dragons are just creatures who adapt to their environments, but in that city live those who reshape the world to their pleasure. I walked those hallowed halls, worked my tail off, and earned the right to be reborn."
"It sounds wondrous." Rarity said softly. "But I can't imagine it's gone on for so long unnoticed." Not if they could heal that.
The old soldier flexed his left foreleg. "You can't point to it on a map, and you can't lead an army to it. All you can do is wake up one day to find your cat nuzzling your chin and pointing you toward the Onyx Bridge." He smiled. "My guide left me there, cats always have their own agendas. They are some of the strongest creatures in the dreamtime, and if they did not spend so much time in it I am quite sure that they would rule the waking world. She helped me find what I was searching for." He patted his left cheek again. "A place where I could earn a new body, since I had spent my first one in Celestia's service. The eyes are tricky things, though, they never could quite get it fixed proper."
"It's... it's hard to believe, but I know it has to be true." She assured him. "You went to a city of dragons and... and they healed you?"
"Took me a while to get it, of course, but that gave me time to live among them. There are many races there, coming and going as their desires allow. I was lucky enough to speak with the ruler of that city, the one who bears the title Prime. I told him of the world as ponies knew it, and he told me secrets that still haunt my dreams. He is more ancient than you can imagine, he survived the fall of his race and led a precious few out of the ashes."
"Is he their Prince, or do they actually call him Prime?" The mare asked, thinking that such a ruler would have a title similar to Celestia's.
"He prefers to be called the Duke." Sir Fancypants replied. "But he is too old of an example for me to use, a forgotten soldier from a race whose time has passed." He flipped ahead in the book. "Now, as to the true Prince of that city, ah." The retired campaigner nodded as he found the picture he sought. It was large enough to spread across two pages, the crease in the middle well defined. "I dare say he is a sterling example. He was worthy by blood, but also proved himself worthy by deed to claim a royal title among his own kind."
Rarity leaned close, heart fluttering.
"A noble dragon," Sir Fancypants said. The mare's jaw went slack as she stared at the sepia-toned photograph. "Of such a rare breed, I was proud to call one my dearest friend. This is a group shot of that little mercenary band I mentioned before. Yes, he is the one looming behind me there, with our Communications Officer on his shoulder. She's the pegasus all wrapped up with wires and wearing that voxcaster. The boy was about two and a half ponies high when he straightened up, but he tended to crawl or hunch like you see there."
The designer felt her heart beating quickly. Her eyes focused on the dragon's face, for it offered her the answers she sought. He had been halfway through a laugh when the shutter clicked, revealing rows of pearly teeth. A wisp of smoke curled up from his nostrils, and his spines looked far sharper than little Spike's. This was a dragon who had seen several centuries by her educated guess, which was just about the best estimate that a pony could make. It was his eyes that held her attention. They were not dull like those of that red brute from the mountain near Ponyville, nor were they cruel like the other dragons who had accepted and then threatened Spike. She saw the brutal cunning that Sir Fancypants had cautioned of, and his raw destructive potential was made all the more clear by the large revolver holstered at his waist. Indeed, the entire scene was littered with weapons and ammunition, everypony seemed armed to the teeth and ready for a short but loud war. The old stallion was much more recognizable in this picture, holding his sword high and winking at the camera. She saw honor, courage, and dedication in Sir Fancypants' eyes. Those qualities were reflected in the dragon behind him. Above all else, the mare saw one trait that gave her hope.
"Intelligence," the designer said softly. "He was a smart one, wasn't he?"
"Not with words or books, but yes, he was very smart. He was the best Top Sergeant I ever had. The boy had instincts that you couldn't train into a pony, and he saved my life far more than I ever had a chance to return the favor."
She looked up at the stallion. "Did he melt down, Sir Fancypants?"
With a smile, the old soldier shook his head. "No. He was a greedy dragon, but he focused that greed for good. You see, he too was only a boy, only a few centuries out of his egg. A child by the standards of most of his kind, yet his mind and body were sharper than many of those who had lived for strange aeons." He tapped the image. "See his arms? As I said, dragons are extremely adaptive. Strong upper body muscles to let him take advantage of weapons with his claws, and long legs that let him cover the distance in the blink of an eye." He shivered. "You don't know terror until you've seen a dragon lying in wait on the ceiling, digging in with his talons and anchoring his tail around a convenient pipe. Even though you know he's your guardian angel, it's still quite a fright to think he could snake that tail down and around your neck as easy as winking."
Rarity thought of the little stick figures Spike drew when he talked about being a knight one day. His knights had long arms and legs, and carried lances. A smile crossed her face. "So... there is hope." In her relief, her tongue got a little ahead of her thoughts. "My little Spikey-wikey is not doomed to become an evil old beast after all." Her cheeks turned red again as she realized what she had said.
"Not at all." Sir Fancypants reassured her. "But I wish to caution you that he is by no means assured that noble fate. You see, we ponies carry our sins on the inside. We think nopony sees the corruption in our hearts." He tapped the page. "But a dragon quickly reveals his heart in his body. Those who dedicate themselves to thought become weak in form but strong in mind, those who live for nothing but greed very quickly balloon into imbecilic mountains... and those who are mighty in battle often see no other solution to a problem." He adjusted his monocle. "A noble dragon has to desire excellence, and I dare say that good friends are all but a requirement for that. Mmm."
The designer realized that the water had certainly boiled by now, but felt she could not yet go to the kitchen. One final question, then she would fetch the water and steep the tea. "Is it really Spike's choice?"
The stallion nodded. "Yes. Yes it is, Miss Rarity, and I've seen Celestia's eyes. She desperately hopes that he makes the right one. Long ago the dragons were one united race, much like we ponies are. Those they chose as leaders guided them down a path of destruction, but a few escaped." He glanced down to the book, then back. "Every dragon's fate is now in his own claws. It is up to him to choose what he wants from this world. The Sergeant I was proud to command learned well from his ancestors' mistakes, and he was the best friend I ever had."
She smiled. "Thank you, Sir Fancypants. I'll go see about that tea." The mare trotted to the kitchen, but stopped just as she entered the door and looked back. "And... what of that cute pegasus on his shoulder?"
The stallion winked back at her. "Why, Miss Rarity, whatever do you mean? He thought of everypony in our little band as part of his extended family." He took off his monocle and rubbed it against his vest. "But I will say this. You are not the first mare to catch the heart of a dragon." He set his monocle back over his left eye. "And I must caution you that they are very loyal creatures. When that loyalty is to his greed, he protects his horde with all his strength. If that loyalty is to one he loves, there is nothing he will not do for her. But to break a dragon's heart is no small matter. It punches through his scales, and destroys him from the inside out. Oh, he can handle rejection, but if somepony tells him that he is her everything and he is not, when he finds out it will destroy him."
Rarity swallowed hard. "Ah... is that... is that from personal experience, Sir Fancypants?"
"Quite so." The stallion said quietly. "But, I have also seen that the right girl can put a dragon's heart back together. It's a beautiful thing." The old soldier cleared his throat. "Hmm. You understand, of course."
"Yes, sir."
He nodded. "I should say this as well... even if a dragon is rejected, I know at least one who still cares for the mare who rejected him. Even though they might never be together, he only wants the best for her and the ones she cares for." He tapped the picture again. "But, as for that dragon's son, he did not take kindly to being lied to, led on, and used." The stallion glanced down at the table and noticed a few flecks of golden dust. He leaned down and blew them away with a gentle puff of warm breath.
"Ah." There was really no way to misinterpret that.
"But, Miss Rarity, I am certain that far better things are set aside for you." The old unicorn smiled kindly at her. "Otherwise, I would not be here."
The designer smiled at him. She felt lighter, for the moment at least. "I shan't be long with the tea, and thank you again for coming all this way."
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Not sure if I should read this or not. I see Fancy Pants, Romance tag, Rarity, and Spike in it. This looks like it could be Sparity, but I feel judging from Fancy Pants in it, I'm afraid it's going to turn into a RariPants story.
I've really enjoyed this story since I started reading it. You do a very good job with bringing things together adding adaptive imagery which lets the words flow and keeps you reading while you have your own mind's eye view of the setting. It's something I strive for with my own writing. Though some may say it doesn't always come out the best. Yours comes out very good if I do say so my self. I can't wait to see how this story finishes. I know it will finish in your own time when you have the time. Keep up the good work.
2717874
I'm reading it. And I only read sparity or Rarity alone fics. Is that enough response for ya, dear?
2718164 It sounds good. Especially since you make lots of Sparity related art and stories.
2718250 Guard player? You mean Fancy?
2718346 Oh okay.
This is a fascinating and unique take on not only Spike and Rarity, but Equestria itself and easily the most novel take on Fancy Pants and Fleur as well. It's also nice to come away with a few tantalising hints of mystery in the past of the world as well.
Excellent work, I shall look foward to the next part.
I like the letter format; it really set this story apart. Still, it's a great chapter and I'm a bit sad that the story's almost over.
Ok, first off, LOVING this story. It's also nice to see the complex potential of the dragon race in Equestria being outlines in something different than the traditional sense. Still, I'm thinking a similar type of Spike will be something I'll use in a story of mine down the road. Said story starts as an OC insert fic, but goes from there into a form of tale that introduces new...shall I say, powers into the status quot of Equestria.
Each character, Especially Spike, will be changed by this shift. Some will find their usual responses or abilities need to be changed or adjusted. Others will be called to a duty far beyond their normal fair, and they will fumble with it mightily. All the same, one of the best parts in my opinion will be Spike and his own journey. it'll be in the same universe, but it'll likely be it's own fic. One where he'll learn, grow, and other characters will have to grow as well beside him. Hopefully I'll get enough down eventually to get to that part. But one thing I need is a beta reader, know anypony that might be available? Just hoping to find one, as I function rather slow without a partner.
Once again, great job, and best of luck.
Excellent, as usual, love Fancy when he's done in a way of nobility and a romantic for him and Fleur
The insight into the draconic nature was quite nicely played... and that book is not to be trusted
Look forward to the next installment.
It's very amazing, mister.
Just wanna say thanks for all the comments and favorites, folks! Sorry that the latest chapter took a bit longer than expected, I actually wasn't able to work on it for about four or so days longer than I had planned.
2717880
Thanks for the kind words! Ever since I was young, I always enjoyed stories that spark your imagination by showing you what's in the author's. That's why I try to describe the scene just enough to give you a mental picture, then carry on with the dialog. If done right, your imagination keeps that mental image while the characters are talking, which gives you a better grasp on what's happening. Sort of like a mind-movie, if that makes any sense at all!
2718250
Guilty. FiM has so many built-in parallels to 40k that I can't resist slipping in a few references here and there. In the next chapter, I mention another hero of the Imperial Guard, ever so slightly adjusted to fit into the FiMverse. What can I say, I love the idea of mere mortals standing against the horrors of the universe. Ponies cross over so well with just about anything, don't they, Guybrush Threepwood?
2718333
Well, how was it? I tried to make the Sparity as obvious as possible from the cover art and description. Did you enjoy the story, or was it just not your style?
2718659
Well, Commander, the next part's out! I really hope you enjoy it as well. As for the hints of mystery, I am something of an HPL fan. Never explain everything!
2718818
The decision to shift from the letters to a dialog-focused story was a very hard one. Originally I was going to just file the draft for Fancypants' part away, or release it in a blog. After some thought, I felt that the story as a whole could incorporate a "living letter". Since I spent so much time unable to truly write after Rarity's letter, I had a big pile of scrap-notes that were begging to be made into a chapter. I really enjoyed the letter-format as well, and I'm thinking about... hmm. Best not to say just yet. I'm really glad to hear you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you'll enjoy the next one too!
2718987
I write and edit all my stories by myself, save for Nygiants93's excellent The Price of Generosity, so I can't recommend anybody. Glad to hear you're enjoying the story, though!
2719220
The next installment's here! Glad to hear you like the book, I don't know where I came up with the idea of Sir Fancypants carrying around a semi-sentient tome, but it was just too malevolent to pass up. I also wrote this chapter with a spirit of rebellion toward all the folks who keep having Fancypants come down and steal Spike's girl. Good honk, he's got all these fine ladies throwing themselves at him in Canterlot, can't he find a nice mare up there? It's like the rich man takin' the poor man's sheep, I tell ya.
2739724
Small words can sometimes mean the most. Thanks to you as well!
Hope you enjoy the next chapter, everyone, and thanks for all the feedback!
Tank's a tortoise!!!!!!! There's a difference people!!
>>>but all the girls he fancied had a rather unfortunate way of dying. Even Fleur. However, she could get right back up, screaming with powers cosmic.>>>
O_____O Power cosmic?! Fleur = Silver Surfer?
My my, with this chapter you've planted all the seeds of a vast epic!
But ho, what is this I spy?
>>>"My guide left me there, cats always have their own agendas. They are some of the strongest creatures in the dreamtime, and if they did not spend so much time in it I am quite sure that they would rule the waking world. >>>
*Alondro smirks and nods to something peering over the shoulder of his mental visage* I wonder if he knows, my old friend...
>>>"But, as for that dragon's son, he did not take kindly to being lied to, led on, and used.">>>
Ok, now you're just being mean!
You can't keep throwing us these addicting little tidbits without promising a HUGE fantasy novel! I'm thinking... 10,000 pages should suffice.
2927774
Yeah, that's an obvious one. I can't believe nobody's mentioned anything about how important the name "Duke" is in Hasbro canon, though...
I wonder how many kids there were in the 80s who had a combined-forces unit of Transformers, GI Joes, and Ponies. Maybe I need to work a little Tonka in here somewhere, hmm? 
3058049
Technically, either Turtle or Tortoise is correct. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turtle#Turtle.2C_tortoise.2C_or_terrapin In S03E11, he's constantly referred to as a "turtle". I suppose that, since we never see him swim, tortoise is the most technically correct term, but Rarity and Fancypants are not biologists!
Either way, Opal sure seems to have a thing for boys in armor... 
3061964
Fleur? The silver surfer? Why, everypony knows she's nothing more than Sir Fancypants' trophy wife. Nothing between her ears, she's all body and no brain. Bah, probably hides in a closet when it thunders outside. It's not like the symbol on her flank represents purity, light, and life or anything. She's probably just some floozy he picked up for her looks.
fc08.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2013/195/7/7/i_am_no_trophy_wife__by_lopoddity-d6dczaz.png
I mean, it's not like he's smart enough to win the heart of a mare his equal or anything. No, all men want is a shapely body.
(In answer to your question, I dunno!
I envisioned her as more of an immortal sentinel. I was going to mention something about a certain "Crimson Vestment", because I rather enjoyed a series of games titled Crusader back in the 90s, which starred a supersoldier in red armor. Their tagline was "unleash your attitude", and Fleur seemed to be the kind of girl who would have quite a bit of attitude to unleash. Unfortunately, that wound up on the cutting room floor, but I might revisit it in the future if there is a demand.)
3062003
A vast epic?
I thought I planted the seeds of a tea party. A very girly and feminine thing indeed. 
3062033
If I only had the time to write ten-thousand pages, I would. Not in one whole novel, that would be boring. I'd do a number of shorter books, easier to bring in people that way, and you can have differing viewpoints. If you're interested in another fantasy story of mine, I'd advise checking out Bon Hadescream. It has vampires, snipers, zombies, and heavy metal.
By the way, thanks for the comments! I really love to hear from fans, it lets me know that others actually enjoy what I write. Critiques are always helpful, hearing what you like lets me focus on that, and hearing about how I screwed up shows me how to improve.
This... is certainly one interesting world your building.
In over 10,000 words, you basically had FancyPants say to Rarity that it's not weird or strange, or even horrible to actually have feelings for a dragon as a life mate (I know, a little heavy-handed). And also that he has seen it first hand what happens both from the good and the bad as appropriate of a former soldier and current reservist.
This was possibly the most important thing that needed to be done, whether Rarity deliberately asked for that information or not. Now that she has that information, I do hope that she uses that priceless gift wisely and (hopefully) generously.
Wait...
Member of the Imperial Guard. Commanded a Russ. Has a bum eye.
Fancy Pants is Commissar Yarrick! We're doomed! DOOOOOOOOOOOOOMED!
(Still reading, I'll full review it when I finish XD)
-Lumino
This chapter blew my mind with deep words. You are a good writer.
So, it's not enough that Fancy Pants is a true gentlemen of a stallion, wealthy and charming as all hell, as well as having a personality that wows even royalty, but you also had to make him a FORMER SPEC-OPS BADASS.
Who commanded a Splinter Cell-trained dragon to boot.
3669171
"I call this Chaos Theory. But, believing in Chaos Theory doesn't mean you have to surrender to it. That's where I come in."
That was from memory.
Sorry if I overdid things a little. 
MLP is a universe full of fantasy and grand heroes, I rather felt that Fancypants' résumé needed a bit of padding. The goal of him being there is not "look at all the grand things I've done", but "this is my life, may it be of help to you". As for the dragons... well, we see so little of them in The Show, and those we do meet are rather tyrannical. I needed to provide a heroic example for Spike to be compared against.
I hope you are enjoying the story so far, and that Sir Fancypants' adventures are not too damaging to your suspension of disbelief.
Wat.
Wat.
Well. Well well well. That was interesting. So many intriguing things merely touched upon.
5496643
I'm glad to hear you're enjoying the story, and grateful for the feedback. One of the strongest points in The Show is how it seeds the imagination, alluding to adventures that might be explored later such as Nightmare Moon's banishment. I wanted to keep a little bit of that storytelling tradition, in order to give the reader a sense that this little tale is part of a fully-realized universe.
Avoiding the "trophy wife" syndrome was also a goal, since I didn't feel that Fancypants' character would really be satisfied with marrying a girl "just for her looks". The missus needs to be able to kick a bit of tail herself!
As for why I used the phrase "Crusader", it was inspired by Fleur's semi-unique bodytype. Her animations use the same body model as "restored" Luna, whose own frustrations I explored in my story Waxing Moon. This is curious, since aside from Fleur, we've only seen Luna and Cadence use that "slimmer" body model! While this probably is just a design choice to make her appear "unique", I decided to take a bit of liberty and imply that Fleur might well be a supercharged leftover from a far more violent era who's finally found a stallion that understands her and now merely wishes to treasure the brief time she will have with him. This implication also allowed Fancypants to speak on a personal level to Rarity regarding matters of the heart, rather than just an academic one regarding dragons.
5496388
In the last chapter of this story, I have a link in the Authors' Notes to my blogpost regarding references I make in here. Drop me a comment on that post if you want full details, I don't want to dump too much into these comments.
The "three invasions" is a reference, however the fact that it is a reference is not as important as its story implications. The dragons were extremely mighty in battle, their downfall was due to corruption within their society rather than any external force. They were their own worst enemies! Celestia learned from that, and has taken steps over the ages to promote harmony within her land. No system is perfect, but those that do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. Knowing that Spike is maturing in line with her hopes is reassuring to her, since it means her societal machinations are bearing fruit. Also, it gives Spike a sense of what a hero he could truly be if he applies himself!
The other reason I mentioned creatures from beyond the stars was to set up some of Sir Fancypants' adventures. At the time, I had no idea that I would actually pen them, but reader demand coaxed me into it. I'd like to hear what you think of the later chapters, personally I'm worried that I jumped the shark a little.
It's interesting - all these hints at epic exploits, and yet I'm more intrigued by the Book. It makes me think of the Luggage.
Despite it being 9138 words, it didn't feel like a slog to read through. It was AMAZING!
The awesome kept building and building!
You successfully brought My Little Pony, and War Hammer 40K to an altar, and held a beautiful touching wedding.
A wedding that was promptly followed up with an insane reception.
All of which lead to a beautiful baby.
That beautiful baby, was this chapter.
qph.fs.quoracdn.net/main-qimg-7e35d42a42bd8b6294acecd54f253c75
Making Fancy Pants several centuries old and making Fleur some kind of Sister of Battle?
meme-arsenal.com/memes/34fd717cd04a4de63299b8de2ddb4d54.jpg
(My knowledge of WH40K is pretty sparse, so I'm likely wrong about Fleur being a Sister of Battle)
Not gonna lie.
Reading dialogue and mundane actions, was a relief to read, compared to the long letters.
Massive breath of fresh air.