Warning Signs
Warning Signs
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On the Species of Dragons: Essays from Halberd is a misnomer. It is not simply essays by Halberd, as it so plainly states on the cover. No, On the Species is a freaking textbook by Halberd, an enormous one, full of entries describing each and every kind of dragon that has ever existed, from ice wyrms to sea serpents, as well as the details on everything from egg types to migration patterns to mating seasons (what fun that chapter was to read). It is exactly 1859 pages long (not counting the Table of Context, Index, or any of the six Appendices at the end), is written in a form of Equestrian (or Serpentian, I suppose) that likes to use big, complicated words, and has barely any illustrations in it, which is normally a big deciding factor whenever I consider whether or not I can make it through a textbook. With the subject at hoof(claw), though, pictures are one of the last things on my mind, resting way back in that dark, damp corner where food and sleep are at.
I bet this Halberd guy got a hoard of awards for writing this, because I've never read anything so massive and so all-encompassing about dragons. It must have taken years to assemble all of the details that make up the contents of this book. He wrote down anything and everything about dragons I could ever think of asking, from the identifiable differences in crown patterns to the multiple possible interpretations of the spots on a dragon's egg (according to him, you can tell what a dragon's personality is going to be like based entirely on those spots). Every single fact on dragons in existence (probably) is jammed packed inside, which is exactly what makes finding my own species in the damn brick a two-day-long task, which is fine, since I have nothing better to do. Finally, though, I find, between the Southern Sundisk (which survives primarily off of pumice and charcoal) and the Stovetail Razorbeak(recognizable by its larger, stiffer, silver scales and red-hot, shovel-shaped tail), a sketch of me in my greed-grown form.
But that's impossible, I tell myself to try and get rid of the cold feeling in my gut. That can't be you. You don't exist in this world.
It's uncanny, though: the shape of the fins, the build of the body, the pattern of the scales, all exactly as I remember them from what Luna showed me in my dreams. The only difference is that I only grew as large as a castle ballroom—the drake in the sketch is slashing away the better part of a mountainside with one claw. Its mouth is open in a roar, and flames gush past its jaw in a violent geyser. I'm tempted to color the sketch purple and green, just to make the resemblance complete.
Calm down, Spike. You know that's not you. You're just frightened because it's a coincidence.
Still not thoroughly convinced that that's true, I start to read the entry:
The Stonesoul Spikeback (Lapillus Hauriuntus)
Family: Firedrake (Ignis)
Dietary Category: Stone-eater
Of the few "wild" species left in Serpentia, the Stonesoul Spikeback is perhaps the most rare, and certainly the most paradoxical. Nearly driven to extinction in the late 600s by the Southern Serpentian Gem Crisis, the Spikeback can be found in the burnt lands of the Stardrop Desert, where precious stones are aplenty and other dragons are few. However, while there is plenty food and little competition for it, the Spikeback will usually be found dead of starvation, thanks in no small part to its insatiable desire to increase the size of its hoard. This desire develops in early childhood, and grows with every gem the Spikeback adds to its hoard. Eventually, the dragon's mind is consumed, leaving it completely feral. Its only purpose in life is to see its hoard grow, and because of this, it will starve itself to ensure that that very hoard does not shrink. Its only source of nourishment is the only thing it cannot bear to consume.
The effects of a large hoard on a Spikeback are more than simply mental, though; the physical effects are just as powerful. As its hoard grows, so does the Spikeback itself. This also provides the dragon with a reason to justify its greed in the first few years of collecting, and increases its desire to hoard in general throughout its life. This may sound very similar to the risks of standard greed-growth patterns, but there are several key elements to the Spikebacks' patterns that make them unique among all other dragons:
• The ratio between growth rate and hoard size for the Spikeback is nearly five times as much as any other species of dragon.
• The Spikeback has no Content Line; its desire for precious stones will only increase with the size of its hoard.
• The use of the hoard to inspire growth in the Spikeback is its only steady form of growth pattern; besides a small growth spurt at the beginning of its life to indicate the transition to adulthood, and the natural growth spurts that are the effect of a Primal Takeover (which, for the Spikeback, is usually guaranteed), the Spikeback will only grow based on the size of its hoard.
The skeletons of Spikebacks larger than Celestia herself have been discovered in the centuries since the Gem Crisis, and eyewitness reports from traumatized explorers tell us that there are others even larger than that living out in the Stardrop Desert. With no other dragons able to make contact with the Spikebacks in order to help them, this species has never made any recorded form of a civilized society, and remains a relative unknown to the rest of the draconic world. Known defining features include jagged spines that trail from head to tail (presumably to be used as a sort of self defense mechanism), an emerald-coloured flame, and primarily purple scales.
Emerald flames and primarily purple scales, and it's even got my name in it. Coincidence, my flank.
I leap out of my bed and go sprinting up the stairs. The main room of the library is empty when I burst into it, so it's up another flight and down the second floor hallway I go, searching for my literary genius of a hostess. I find her in her bedroom, of course—that's where she's spent most of the past few days, as I've been painfully aware of. Unfortunately, discovering my species has made me a lot less painfully aware of Twilight's bedroom seclusion, which makes what happens next entirely my fault:
I fling the door open, On the Species still in one hand. Without any thought of what might be going on inside the room, I shout:
"TWILIGHT!"
The answer I get confounds me, but only for the next fraction of a second, when I still can't see what's happening in the bedroom.
"AIIIIIGH!!"
"WEEEE!!!!"
There's a thump of something against the floor, and then a bang as the door hits the wall. Now I have full visibility to the inner sanctum of the bedroom, and I can see exactly what it is I've just barged in on: Twilight in the bed, her body twisted away from the door while her neck swivels around so she can glare at me; Pinkie Pie on the floor, her face flushed and her mouth covered with a claw as she tries (in vain) to hold back a fit of giggles; a tangle of bed sheets, covering up just enough of their bodies to protect my virgin eyes.
I sniffle.
"Oh, Celesti—"
WHAM!
With a burst of her lavender aura, Twilight smashes the door back into my face. A volcano of pain erupts from my nose, so sudden and so powerful that I can't even scream in pain. I stumble backwards and collide with the wall, adding an aching, probably bent head-spine to my list of injuries. I let out a sort of gurgle-groan and bring a claw up to my snout. There's no blood, but to be honest, I would have rather been spurting it than to have seen what I've just seen.
Sliding down the wall until I'm sitting against it, I try to massage the aches from my nose, wincing as each rub sends out another pulse of pain through my whole body. I can faintly hear Twilight ranting from the other side of the door. It takes me a moment to realize she's actually talking to me through the door:
"...what could be so important that you just had to come barging into my room when I had Pinkie over?"
I try to apologize, but even opening my jaw makes my snout throb, so all I let out is another groan.
"I think you hit him too hard, Twilight," I hear Pinkie say.
"Well, good! He deserves it for barging in on us!"
"But he must have something super duper important to say, though, since he did."
"He should have knocked!"
At this, I try to croak, "You should have taken a moment to stop getting freaky with your freakin' draginfriend!" What come out is something, "Shuga taka moma shkop gefreeky-freeky dragfren!"
Silence from behind the door. Then I hear Pinkie giggling, and Twilight telling her to stop, this isn't funny. Then I hear the sounds of footsteps. Loud, angry footsteps. Pinkie is saying something now, but not loud enough for me to hear. The footsteps stop, and I have time to register the shadow under the door before Twilight flings it open. She glares down at me.
"Is your snout bleeding?" she asks, voice devoid of any betraying emotion whatsoever.
I consider my answer before saying, "Uh... Yes."
She nods in satisfaction. "Good. That's your punishment for interrupting us." She turns to shut the door again, but Pinkie's head pokes out from one side of it and whispers in Twilight's ear. She listens, and mumbles:
"Mm-hmm... Yes... No... No! Why would I... You'd do what?"
Her face changes dramatically in the next second. The angry, stern look in her eyes swaps out with a shocked, embarrassed one. Her cheeks turn blood red, and she covers her mouth with a claw. Pinkie, meanwhile, flicks the underside of Twilight's ear-fin with her tongue. She vanishes behind the door once more, and Twilight turns back to me as it closes shut.
"Okay then," she quips, clapping her hands together and putting on her best smile. "You wanted to talk to me about something?"
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Five minutes later, Twilight and I sit down at the kitchen table, nursing two cups of breakfast tea (which is a little weird, since it's nearly four in the afternoon). Not a shred of evidence as to what went on upstairs remains on her face. Instead, she's gracing me with a confused head tilt, one eyebrow quite a bit higher than the other.
She asks, "You didn't know what species of dragon you were?"
I nod. "Nope. Thought I was just a regular old fire drake."
"Was this part of your amnesia?"
I blink. "What amnesia?"
My hand flies towards my mouth a moment too late. In mid-motion, I swivel my wrist and bring it up higher, so that it looks as though I just wanted to scratch my head. Which also isn't really the best move.
"Uh, the amnesia you said you had when we first met?" Twilight replies.
I do my best to try and wiggle out of a very bad situation: "Oh, that amnesia! Haha, seems I'd forgotten it for a moment. Ironic, huh?"
Twilight's frown doesn't disappear, but her eyebrow of suspicion lowers. I can only pray that she'll buy it...
"Yes. It is a bit ironic."
I only barely manage to hold back my sigh of relief, hiding it by taking a swig of tea. Hoping that I can change the conversation topic back to something other than my admittedly-weak alibis, I say, "No, this has nothing to do with that. I just always thought I was like the rest of my family."
"Emerald," Twilight says, "According to this book"—and here she taps a claw against the cover of On the Species, which I brought into the kitchen with me—"the rest of your family should be a bunch of enormous, feral beasts."
"Hmm?"
"It says that your species is one of the few wild species left in Serpentia. If you were really a..."—she flips to the bookmarked page in the text—"'Stonesoul Spikeback,' you would have to have been found as an egg by a completely different family of dragons and raised as one of their own." She leans forward, drilling into my very soul with her pupils. "Tell me, do your parents look anything like you?"
My eye twitches involuntarily, as does the corner of my mouth. Feeling my face redden, I blurt, "I guess I'm adopted, then!" and try to laugh. It comes out sounding more like a wheeze. A sick, guilty, fake-as-all-Tartarus wheeze.
Her eyes bore into me like dental equipment, and I pray to any Celestia from any universe to stop her. Finally, after a silence too long and too tense for any mortal soul to survive without casualty, she speaks again:
"That seems to be the only logical explanation."
"You said it!" I wonder if I'm gripping my teacup too hard?
"I guess this has been quite the discovery for you."
"Oh, you know it!" I can't stop sounding like I'm on a sugar high. "I didn't even know that kind of dragon existed!"
Twilight's eyebrow raises in a perfect imitation of Applejack. "Is that so," she deadpans, sipping her tea.
"It is! Who knew there was such a thing as a 'proportionately greedy' dragon? Besides you, of course, since you're... so... smart..."
Her look finally manages to shut me up. I look down at the table and sip my tea, wishing I could teleport.
"Emerald?" I don't acknowledge her, but she continues anyway: "Is there something else you want to say?" She sounds like a mother trying to worm a confession out of her child.
"...Yes." There. Now I sound like I'm telling the truth. "It's... It's about Spike."
She raises an eyebrow. "Spike?"
"Yeah, Spike." Cogs start turning in my brain as I try to figure out what to say next. Before I can get another word out, though, Twilight speaks up:
"He's still angry about Rarity, isn't he?"
"No," I say, before thinking of where this conversation could go if I keep the focus on me. Then I say, "Well, not exactly."
Her frown returns. "What do you mean, 'not exactly?'"
I massage the bridge of my snout, thinking hard, and mutter, "I don't really know how to phrase this right..."
"Then phrase it wrongly. Just tell me."
Think, Spike. Think hard. "It's just that..." C'mon, he's you, for Celestia's sake! Think of something!
"Yes?" Twilight goads.
"...he's angry at you." You idiot.
She blinks, surprised by my answer. "He is? What about?"
"Uh... He's, um, upset that you... never believed in him." You bucking idiot.
"What does that mean?"
"I guess... you never... helped him, or something?" Oh, you're so dead!
"Never helped him? What, with Rarity?"
Wait, this might actually work out. "Uh, yep! He's upset that you never believed he had a chance with Rarity! That's it!" If I can just manage not to sound like I did a minute ago...
Twilight's jaw drops open. "That's not true!"
I think back to the moment Spike lied to her about being done with Rarity, and more stupid crud starts pouring from my mouth: "Of course it is! You were practically crying with joy after he told you he was over her!"
She starts to say something, but after "I never—" she breaks off and stares into her teacup. She takes a large swig from it, sets it down, and, still staring into it, mumbles, "I never thought he didn't have a chance."
Hang on. This wasn't supposed to be a real problem. "So, what, you were happy you were wrong? I mean, you've always made fun of him about his crush—"
"And you know this how?" she snaps.
"Uh... h-he told me."
She fold her arms and harrumphs. "Well, he shouldn't have. It's rude to start rumors about others."
"Well, was he right? Did you ever support him?" I ask, even though I already know the answers to those questions.
She stares into the grain of the table. "...Not really."
"Well, why not?"
No answer. She circles a claw around the edge of her teacup. I've made her feel bad about herself, I realize. Great.
"...I was worried about Rarity," she finally mumbles.
"What?"
More firmly: "I was worried about her." She stops circling and looks up at me. "I never thought it was impossible. I just didn't want it to happen, for her sake."
Well, that's new. "...Her?"
To my surprise, Twilight sniffles and pinches the bridge of her snout.
"I was probably being stupid," she grumbles. "Stupid and paranoid. I'd heard stories about relationships like it... ones that didn't end so well."
"So you tried to keep them apart!?" I snap. "And you did that for, what, a decade?"
She leans back in her seat, shocked by my outburst. There's the faintest of tearful glimmers in her eyes.
"I-I never tried anything..." she stammers. "I just—"
"—thought it was wrong?" I interrupt. "Thought it was 'dangerous,' or maybe 'twisted?' Something that should never, ever happen, regardless of how it affects your little brother?" It's at this point that I realize I'm digging my claws into the table like I did when I spoke to Twilight at my "Welcome to Dragonsville" party. I'm also leaning very far forward in my seat—I'm hardly a hoof away from her face. A face that is now contorted in what I assume is anger. Or maybe that's pain. I've had trouble telling the two apart lately.
"Why are you acting like this?" she whispers.
"I don't—"
"Why are you accusing me of all this?" she shouts. I lean away from her, and as though we're on a seesaw, she leans forward so she's right up in my face, never letting the gap between our snouts widen. "Are you angry at me about something? Is this because of what happened between you and Rarity?"
"How could you possibly know—"
"Oh please!" Now it's her turn to be sassy. "You've spent the past two days down in your room, reading that book! You haven't been outside since the day after the Summer Sun Celebration, and I haven't heard a word from Rarity either! I'm not an idiot, Emerald, as much as you'd like to believe!"
There's a curdling sensation in my stomach when she says this. "I never said you were an idiot, Twilight."
"Well, you're doing a wonderful job of making me feel like one!" She settles back in her seat and covers her face with her hands. Silence blankets the room.
"I just didn't want Rarity to get hurt," she mumbles through her claws, "when Spike passed away."
Bam. Déjà vu again. Except this time, it isn't just an itch in the back of my head—I know I've heard this before.
They had both told me they didn't care that their lifespans were so radically different...
I tell myself that I knew that she was lying...
You must understand the dangers of being in love with a pony, Spike...
The dragon's name was Rose...
My lips move on their own, forming words I can barely stand to think. "...Twilight? Did... Did the princesses ever say anything about it?"
She looks at me with amazement. Her mouth opens like she wants to say something, but she remains silent for a long time. What finally comes stuttering out is, "H-How could you possibly—"
"Twilight?" I lean forward, eyes deadlocked on the frightened dragoness in front of me. "Did Princess Celestia or Princess Luna tell you that it was dangerous for a dragon and a pony to be in a romantic relationship?" I can't see straight, and I'm shaking now. "Did they ever tell you that if Spike and Rarity got together, it would literally end in flames?" I'm so close to her now, I can feel her breath on my face. Another thought occurs to me, one that I voice with great, fearful hesitation: "Did... Did you ever get an order from them... telling you to keep them from ever having a relationship?"
Wide, terrified purple irises fill my vision. Twilight's shaking too, I see. Not for the same reason as I am, though—she's afraid. I can smell the fear on her.
"Th-This isn't possible. You can't be—"
"Did they tell you to stand between them, Twilight?"
She leans back, shaking her head. "You don't have amnesia, do you? You've been lying to me this whole time."
"DID THEY!?"
I might have shaken the table with that roar. I definitely shook Twilight—she looks petrified, like a cockatrice had come in and frozen her when I wasn't looking. But she can move, alright. I watch her do just that, inching her head up, then down, then up again.
"Y-Yes..." she whispers. The curdling feeling returns, and I feel like vomiting for terrifying her like that, but any guilt I may have is swiftly drowned out by the growing buzz of rage and confusion in my head. I can feel my body falling back in its seat, but in my mind I'm already far, far away from the library's kitchen.
Celestia. Celestia said to keep it from happening. So she ordered Twilight to keep me from getting too close to Rarity.
She remembered what happened with that guard and his dragoness. She didn't want it to happen again.
She thinks I'm an animal. She thinks I'll go on a rampage if I lose Rarity. She thinks I'll hurt her subjects—
And somewhere, I realize, in a world very near and very far away at the same time, there is a dragon lying in a ruined hallway staring up at the sky, and there is a massive crowd of frightened ponies standing outside the gates of a grand castle, and there are guards lying on the debris-covered floor of a once-magnificent ballroom who will not be standing up again any time soon. And there is an alicorn keeping events from further transpiring with her immense power. An alicorn that has seen a situation such as this one before.
She knew.
From what sounds like the other end of a very wide open field, I hear somepony call:
"Emerald?"
I feel a floating sensation that buzzes down to a general numbness as I realize Twilight is talking to me, and that I'm still in my seat in the kitchen. I wonder how long I've been sitting at this table since she told me. It can't have been too long, I don't think so. So why is she staring at me like that?
"Who are you really?" The fear is still in her eyes. "You can't have not known what species of dragon you were. Who are you?"
I can't talk. I don't want to talk, not to her or to anydragon or anypony or anything, not ever again. I can't be here anymore. I can't speak. I can't think. I can't move, I can't breathe, I can't I can't I can't—
I'm up and headed to the door. There's a yell behind me, calling my name. I don't care. I leave the kitchen.
The library looks so much larger than when I'd stepped into the kitchen minutes (hours?) ago. The front door looks miles away, yet somehow I make it there in just seconds. I fling it open, and bright sunlight shines down and blinds me. Her sunlight. The sunlight she casts every day, while she sits in her court or in her private chambers plotting to tear apart the lives of her subjects on a stupid whim—
"Hey!"
It's a shout right in my ear, which is probably the only reason I notice it. My neck swivels, and Twilight's taking up my vision again, her eyes full of that same fear I smelled earlier. Only now, she reeks of it.
"Who are you?" As she says this, she pulls me back into the library with her magic and slams the door. Then she pins me against the wall, the aura surrounding my neck tightening. Her claws extend and jab into my throat. I can feel their tips through the warmth of the magic. They're almost piercing my skin.
"You've been lying this whole time, haven't you? You know exactly where you are, and who I am, and how you got here. This whole amnesia thing has been a lie, right from the start. Why?"
I was wrong. It wasn't fear I saw in her eyes—it was anger. Guess I'm getting those two mixed up as well. I choke out, "Twilight... You're acting like a madmare..."
She shouts in my face, "What are you doing here in Dragonsville, trying to sweep Rarity off her feet? Are you some sort of spy? Are you trying to tear her away from the rest of us? Do you want to steal her for her special gem-location spell?" She tightens her grip on my neck. "Tell me. Now."
The aura around my neck makes it hard to speak without rasping, but it doesn't stop me from rasping out my answer to her:
"You... didn't even... recognize... my colors..."
She loosens the aura a little and barks, "What?"
"I have... his eyes..."
She stares at me for a good, long minute, and I stare back. Her eyes glitter with understanding at last, and the aura wavers and sputters out. I drop to the floor, landing hard on my right knee. Twilight, staring now at something distant and in her head, takes a few slow, shaky steps back.
"You..." she mutters, "...you can't..."
"Emerald Spires," I spit, rubbing the no-doubt bruised kneecap. "You bought it faster than it takes you to buy a set of quills for your friendship reports."
"Your name isn't—"
"You know my name, Twilight Sparkle." I get up, taking care not to put too much pressure on my right leg, and give her a grin that probably looks much crazier than I'd hoped. "You've known it since the day Celestia first showed you my crib."
She's shaking again. "Y-You're... You're S—" She can't seem to get the words out, so I help her.
"Yeah," I say. "I'm Spike." I lean back against the wall. "Bet it makes a whole lot more sense why I was so interested in Rarity now, huh?"
Twilight's claws find their way up the sides of her head. She looks down at the ground, shaking violently now. Her pupils are pinpricks in a sea of violet. Her horn lights up, and for a second I think I can see her scales flashing white and her spines flashing orange. Something in the air sparks, and suddenly a violet bubble pops into existence around Twilight. From inside it, I can see her shaking harder and harder, her scales and spines now definitely turned white and orange. Smoke is pouring out of her nostrils. Without warning, Twilight sends a burst of lavender fire gushing from her mouth, filling up the bubble in a split second. Her silhouette is all I can see now, and there is no sound to be heard—a soundproof force-field, probably for the sake of not having Pinkie Pie hear whatever it is she's yelling. Fire bursts from within her, gushing not just from her wide-open jaw, but from her claws, her tail, and each and every one of her spines. I'm not sure how.
The bubble bursts, eventually. Purple smoke dissipates, and there's Twilight, breathing a little heavily but otherwise alright. The ground beneath her feet is scorched, and she's covered in ash and soot. Her claw slides down her forehead, revealing a swipe of bright lavender on her otherwise grimy gray body. Her eyes flutter open. She fixes me with a cold, hard stare.
"You transformed yourself."
"You've seen us both in the same room."
"Duplication spell with transformation."
"Nope. No horn. Pretty sure that would've transferred over."
"Then you... you..." She looks dizzy. "You're from the future."
"Closer, but no."
"The past?"
"Getting colder..."
She stares at my chest, distant and traumatized.
"...Different dimension?"
I hit an imaginary bell. "Ding!"
She frowns at me. "How is that closer to being from the future than being a transformed clone?"
"I—"
But she goes on, rubbing the sides of her head. Ashes flutter to the floor like snow.
"Another dimension. You're from another dimension, one where you're a dragon, too."
"Actually—"
Again, I can't get a word in—she's on a roll.
"No, no, that can't be it. It surprised you to see Rarity as a dragon, which either means you haven't seen her in a long, long time, or you've never seen her that particular way before. You also don't seem to understand some of the basic customs here, so you must not live around dragons. Which means you live..."
Her eyes flash to me. "You said 'madmare.'"
"What?"
"When I had you up against the wall with my magic, you said I was 'acting like a madmare.'" She steps closer to me, and I begin to wish there wasn't a wall right behind me—I've never wanted to turn tail and run away this badly in my life. "Not a maddragon. A madmare."
"Yeah, I—"
"Ponies, then." She turns away again and continues rambling. "You live with ponies, ponies that are like us—No, no! Ponies that are us! Alternate dimension means alternate Twilight, and alternate Pinkie, and..." She turns and points a claw at me. "...alternate Spike. They're our pony counterparts, just like you're Spike's dragon counterpart."
"Yes, and I can explain everything else much faster than—"
"It's a special-inverse dimension, then. Ponies are dragons, dragons are ponies. But that doesn't make sense—what would griffons be, or changelings, or jackalopes?" She gifts me with her attention again, asking, "What was Gilda?"
"What?"
"Gilda. Rainbow Dash's friend. You must've met her, you and Spike have had the same experiences."
"Uh... she was a griffon. Listen, we can talk—"
"Interesting! So then, the species are different, but the timelines must be the same. You must have come to Dragonsville like we did..."
"Actually, it's called Ponyville where I—"
"...and you must have faced down Discord and Night Fury and Chrysalis and the rest of that craziness as well. But it couldn't have all been identical! The species difference had to have caused some differentiation, some fraying in the timeline. Maybe... the wedding was different? Different rituals, different preparations that gave away the changeling invasion easier. Was Discord harder to beat, maybe? You wouldn't have had such a hard time fighting with Rainbow Dash if she were a pony. And then there's the Crystal Empire. That had to have been different for you, we had to tie up Pinkie Pie to keep her from eating any more lamp posts. And you wouldn't have teleported out of Sombra's palace with the Crystal Heart, you're not a magic-user..."
By some act of Celestia, Twilight stops and stares at me, a sudden twinge of fear in her eyes.
"But you're Spike. You really are, aren't you?"
I wait for her to turn away again, but she doesn't, so I say, "Yeah. I really am."
It's beginning to sink in. "From another dimension."
"Yes."
"That means..." She rushes to the window and looks out, like somepony might be listening in on our conversation (which, let's face it, is really just her ranting with me standing as a one-dragon audience). She looks over at me again, and says, "You can't stay here."
"Twilight, please don't kick me out—"
"Not that!" She comes over to me and pulls me towards the guest room. "I mean you can't stay here." She waves her hand in the air. "In this universe."
"Oh. I knew that."
"You need to leave. If you come in contact with your other self, then you'll—"
She gasps. Knowing what she's thinking, I say, "A little late to stop that, don't you think?"
"Oh no..." Twilight looks like she might faint. Or start screaming again. "That explosion in the back of the library... You two made contact..."
"Don't worry, Twi." It feels nice, saying her nickname. "It's not gonna get bad unless we keep touching. We've both agreed—"
"Both?" she growls. "You both agreed?"
"Twilight, please, I'll explain it all to you—"
"Spike knew you were him." She starts rubbing the sides of her head again. "He knew, and he never told me..."
"Well, he didn't really expect you to believe him. Neither did I, really. I mean, it sounds crazy."
"Do you think I don't know what crazy is by now? Because trust me, this is nothing compared to what I've dealt with in the past."
She has a point. Thinking back to all those "Fate of the World Hanging in the Balance" situations we had back when I was a kid, I realize this must feel like coming home to her.
"So," I say, "you believe me?"
She sighs and mumbles, "Yes. I suppose I do." Her claws massage the bridge of her snout. "And I suppose Rarity didn't. Is this why you two had that falling out?"
I shake my head and try to tell her I don't want to talk about Rarity at the moment, but she keeps at it:
"Then what did it? Did you badmouth Spike? Um, I mean, the pony-Spike, of course. You wouldn't—"
I hold up a hand, resign myself to telling her what happened, and mutter, "I get it. And no, I didn't badmouth Spike. I told her... that I had to leave in a few days."
"You have to leave?"
"Well, yeah. I can't stay here, like you said. There can't be two Spikes in the same universe."
"Hm," she rubs her lip with a thoughtful finger. "And when are you leaving?"
"At this point? I've got two days after this one."
"Ah." She nods. "She thinks you've been lying to her this whole time."
"I have been. Just... not about what she thinks I'm lying about."
"So, let me get this straight:"—she folds her arms again—"you knew that you could only stay here a couple of weeks, and you still tried to get Rarity to fall for you?"
"I know, I know," I groan. "I've been through this whole part, okay? I've learned my lesson. I'll write a friendship report as soon as I'm home." That's a lie—pretty sure I'm going to a hospital the moment I get home. Or possibly a jail cell.
To my surprise, Twilight giggles and says, "Friendship report, huh? You really are Spike."
"What, the obsession with Rarity wasn't enough of a clue?" I reply, and all of a sudden we're laughing together. For the first time since I got here, I feel like I'm at home, even in this strange, enlarged version of the library I know and love. It makes me miss my Twilight.
The laughter dies down, and we stand in silence for a moment. Twilight looks over at a random book shelf, and I look at the floor. I can feel my frown reappear as our earlier conversation comes to mind:
"Celestia's been telling you to keep Rarity and I apart, then."
I look up at her. She does not look back at me. Her frown is larger than mine.
"Not really, no. She just told me about something that happened a long time ago, and it was this exact same situation, only—"
"—it was a dragoness and a stallion, not a drake and a mare?"
"Um, no." She looks at me. "It was a drake and a mare."
"Oh, right. Forgot about the species swap thing with this world."
"How did you—"
"I've heard the story before." A sigh punctuates my sentence. "I should have realized there was a connection..."
"I don't think you'd be like that."
My brow furrows. "What?"
A smile slips onto her face. "You've grown into a very mature young stallion, Spike. Or, in your case,"—she gestures to my scaly body— "a very mature young drake. You aren't a little kid who has a tantrum every time he doesn't get what he wants. You never were, really. It was probably obvious to see that before, but then, I wasn't exactly the best at reading emotions of other living creatures back when we were younger. I think you and Rarity can have a wonderful life together."
"Yeah, maybe." I'm glad I haven't had to tell her about how the Rarity from my universe and I had a falling out and I destroyed a big part of the Canterlot Castle. "I just... I don't want it to be over too soon."
"I think I can relate." She looks at a textbook sitting on the center table in the room and frowns again. For a long moment, she just stares, silent and pondering. When she finally speaks again, her voice is barely above a whisper:
"How long does a pony live, Spike?"
"Huh?"
"You live in a world of equines, don't you?" She looks at me, and I'm shocked to see her eyes watering again. "You must know the average lifespan of one. We don't have as much info here in the middle of Serpentia."
I open my mouth, but I don't answer right away. I don't want to. I give in, though, and mutter, "If they're lucky? A hundred years, maybe a little more."
Twilight nods, then turns her head away. Her claw rushes up to cover her eyes, but the static shaking of her chest and the twisting of her lips betrays her emotions.
"I suspected it was something short like that, when he hit eighteen..." she sobs. "Even though he was at an adult age, his body just kept aging. It didn't slow down at all..." After that, her voice cracks, and she grits her teeth. I watch a drizzle slide down her cheek. A droplet falls to the floor.
"Oh crap..." I move over to the crying dragin and pull her into a hug. "Twilight, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"I don't want him to go," she blurts, hugging me back with a grip like a vise. My shoulder becomes her pillow. I can feel more droplets wiping off onto it. "It's gonna be too soon, just like you said."
"It's okay," I tell her. "It's okay."
"It's a blink of an eye for me. A blink." Her claws dig into my back. "It's not enough. He doesn't get enough."
I just hug her tighter and say, "He gets a lifetime, Twi. Just as much as anypony else."
After that, we're both quiet. Then, to my surprise, I hear a giggle come from the sulking mess of lavender scales on my shoulder.
"What's so funny?" I ask.
Twilight lifts her head up to look me in the eye. She's got a small smile on, and she sniffles before murmuring, "You said 'everypony.' It sounds weird."
"To you, maybe." I grin. "You think saying 'everydragon' came naturally to me?"
We're both laughing again. And that's good. It's nice to laugh with Twilight. She's got such a great laugh. She really does.
Once we're finished and sobered up again, Twilight says, "I suppose I shouldn't complain. I mean, your situation must be a thousand times worse." Her smile vanishes. Blushing, she mumbles, "Sorry."
"Hey, it's alright. I've thought about it for a while, now, and I think I'm coming to terms with it."
Twilight's smile returns, if only a little smaller than before.
"Now," I say, patting her shoulders, "if you don't mind, I'm going to go get that book back, and see if I can't commit a few more pages of it to memory before I have to go."
I turn towards the kitchen door, but something vivid and pink catches my eye. Looking to the foot of the staircase, who do I see standing there with the goofiest, sappiest, most-teary-eyed smile I've ever seen plastered on their face but Pinkie I-Knew-You-Were-Spike-The-Whole-Time Pie. I stop and stare at her. Then, when the silence has gone on long enough, I ask:
"You were standing there the whole time?"
Nod.
"You heard everything we said, and you're happy that I'm finally being honest with Twilight?"
Nod-nod.
"You're gonna give us both a bone-crushing hug right this second, whether we want it or not?"
Nod-nod-nod-nod-nod-nod-nod.
I sigh, and hold out my arms at my sides.
"Well, let's get it over with."
Fun Fact: when it's coming from a dragon version of her, Pinkie Pie Affection hurts. A lot.
____________________________________________________________________
Rarity shows up at the library the next morning, in the middle of breakfast. Which is a really unfortunate time to show up, because there's nothing that makes you feel stupider than answering the door with a mouthful of toast and finding the love of your life standing on the doorstep.
She greets me with a short "Hello." There's the faintest trace of a smile on her face. I try to speak, but when my mouth opens, the toast falls out of my mouth and lands on my foot (jelly side down, of course). So I just stand in the doorway with my jaw gaping open and my breakfast smearing on my toes, waiting for the moment when Luna comes in and laughs at my embarrassing but adorable dreams. But that moment doesn't come. Rarity just stares back at me with that small smile, somehow nonplussed by my carelessness with the toast.
"Surprised to see me, I suppose," she finally says.
I nod and shut my mouth, stifling the urge to kick away the food on my foot. I try and speak, but nothing comes to mind besides "You're here."
"Yes," she replies, "yes I am. May I come in? We should talk."
I let her in, of course, and start toward the table in the center of the room. Rarity walks past it, though, and heads for the hall leading into the depths of the library.
"In private, please," she insists as she passes me. After taking a moment to choke down the enormous, all-consuming fear of what lies beyond that first row of shelves (lost a whole day in there, remember?), I follow her down the aisle. Somehow, she's able to navigate this insane labyrinth on her own, and in less than a minute we've found a desk to sit at. She does just that, but I stay standing: I have this horrible feeling that if I stop using them, my legs will completely shut down on me, and I won't be able to get back up.
"Okay," I begin once we're both comfortable (or at least, once she's comfortable). "I'm—I'm gonna say 'I'm sorry' a lot in the next few minutes, so please don't get angry at me for that."
She smiles again and says, "I don't think that would be fair, after all we've been through."
"No... I guess not." I stare at my toes (there's still a little jelly on one) and think of what to start with. "I... I don't really know what to say to you right now. I don't know if I should start explaining myself or start begging to be forgiven. I know I want to do both, but no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to think of how to say it all in a way that won't hurt you more. I just—I really don't want to do that again. Hurt you, I mean."
"I believe you."
"Thank you." My heart is pounding so hard, it makes my head ache. "I'm sorry for putting you through all this. I didn't mean to make you jump through hoops and waste your time on me. I shouldn't have tried to win you over at all, but I just couldn't think straight. I can never think straight, when I'm around you or when you're on my mind." I glance over at her. "That's always a bit of a trouble."
A red tinge taints her cheeks, and she looks at the floor. "I understand."
"It's just that—" I can't get the words out, so I convince myself to do so by hitting my head against a shelf, which makes Rarity jump. Gripping my forehead, I finally whimper, "I love you, you know? I love you a lot, and I feel like the luckiest drake in the world when I'm with you."
"Emerald..."
"I know you think I'm full of it, and I would too, if I were in your scales, but I'm sorry, I just can't lie to you anymore. I love you, Rarity, more than anything in the world."
Silence from her end. I don't look at her. I think I'm gonna cry.
"It amazes me just imagining what you've had to go through because of me. Anydragon else would have sent me packing after the first date—heck, they probably wouldn't have even given me a first date—but you hung around long enough for me to get some kind of sense back in my head. You stayed with me, and in return I did the... the crappiest thing I could possibly have done to you. For that, I am more sorry than I've ever been in my life, and I pray to Celestia that you can forgive me somehow."
Still nothing from her. I'm blinking away some shimmer in my eyes. The bookshelf is hurting my claws.
"And that's the worst part. Even if you forgive me, even if you believe me when I say I love you more than the sun, even if all that happens, I still have to leave you. Whether or not you believe what I told you, I'm leaving soon, and part of me is hoping you're here to tell me you hate my rotten guts, just so you can be alright when I go, because I don't want you to be unhappy because of me anymore. I don't want you to be unhappy at all, ever. All I want is to see you smile, and if hating me will do that, then that's what needs to happen.
"I'm so sorry, Rarity. I'm sorry that the lies hurt you, I'm sorry that the truth hurt you, and I'm sorry that I—"
"Emerald."
A claw rests on my shoulder. She turns me so that I'm staring straight into her vivid blue eyes.
"I came here because I wanted to see you." Her other claw rests on my other shoulder. "Because I believe you."
"Oh." That's all I can say.
"Spike told me that you weren't lying. That you told him the same exact story. And that... you really do love me."
"Yeah," I answer. "Yeah, I do."
A long pause follows. Then I ask, "So, he convinced you to come and see me?"
"I suppose, yes." Another small smile appears on her lips, joined this time by a reddish tint on her cheeks. "Truth be told, I... wanted to see you again anyway."
"Why?"
Her arms have slid further along my shoulders, and are now wrapped around my neck. The tip of her snout is just touching mine, and through the sliver of my vision not taken up by her face I can see her thin, curvy tail waving back and forth in a slow, deliberate motion.
She whispers, "Because I love you too," and her eyes drift shut.
Keeping as still as I can, I uncurl my fists and rest them on Rarity's hips. They're warm.
I whisper back, "E-Even after..." I try and move in after that, but she pulls her head away just as our lips brush. Her hands ball up against my back, and her eyes open the slightest bit.
"How long do you have before you go?" she asks.
"...Two days."
Rarity grimaces and turns away, biting her lip. I can see her eyes shimmer like mine did, and she drags a claw up to wipe at them. By the time it moves out of the way, her expression has changed; the small smile has returned once more.
"Fine, then..." She sniffles and turns back to me. The claw that wiped away the shimmer rests on my cheek, and I bring my own claw up to hold it. Her chest presses against mine as she steps in closer, her heart beating gently against me. Her claws slip back around to my spines, her arms sliding smoothly along the sides of my neck.
"We'll just have to make the most of it, won't we?" she asks. Her breath is heavy and hot on my face.
"Rarity..."
I don't finish my sentence. I just lean in again. And this time, she does, too.
I taste vanilla and lilac, with the slightest hint of ruby.
My favorite.
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Update with two chapter. You are the real MVP.
That sounds suggestive.
Good chapter, glad we finally got the secrecy monkey off this story's back.
Now on to true resolution!
you mean Serpentia
I'm so happy now!!!
Awesome chapter!!!
Soooo... Rarity = Devil.
I knew it!
4823085
Rarity DOES have Devilish hips that drives stallions/drakes/wayward humans to temptation with lust.
As well as her being greedy at times and supplying items for others to be greedy, vain, prideful (pride as in the deadly sin, not self-confidence), and drive others to lust.
What was pony-Spike's greed growth like event? I forget. I had to leave the site for a few months shortly after the sex scene chapter came (heh) out.
5176154
He managed to turn himself into a dragon.
To bad the spell malfunctioned and he got this terrible itch that began to drive him insane and he ripped off his scales and his skin sloughed off.
He grew huge and basically became a rampaging skinless dragon held together by a thin membrane of magic.
Basically word for word.