Brave the Sandstorm
In hushed whispers, the elders gather around the firepit. They tell of the Wraithworm, the deathless dragon whose fell grip holds the three pony tribes in bondage. No magic can mar its scales, no weapon wound its flesh… save one.
Hellpiercer.
Twilight slid the black lance out of its onyx sheath, metal screaming as it rubbed against mineral. Torchlight fell across its jagged body, illuminating the malicious point and the runes engraved in half-forgotten languages.
It was destined for a dragon, and Twilight’s duty—her most important duty on this day—was to ensure its destiny was fulfilled.
She had waited long for this, searched high and low throughout the bazaars of Equestria for the legendary weapon. If the tales were true, it could slice through scales like a spear through water.
Twilight herself did not put much faith in the fables, but time was running short, and the day was fast approaching.
Carefully, she resheathed it, wrapping it and layering it over with protective enchantments. Her magic caught the lance in its lilac grip and lifted it onto her back, nestled between her powerful wings. A curt shake of her head dismissed the guard who offered to carry it for her. This was something she had to do herself.
It was time to leave.
Twilight sliced through the Badlands winds, feathers fighting the currents of desiccating air. As the princess’s magic rammed a path through another sandstorm, she cursed the abominable weather. Her mission was urgent.
Gritting her teeth, she flared her horn and forged ahead.
Her hooves left skid marks as she landed in the cavern’s mouth, her wings depositing a trail of dust behind her as she prepared to travel deeper into the cave.
This was it; her goal, and if all went well, the final destination of Hellpiercer. The tales claimed it could stab straight through to a dragon’s guts. She hoped it could reach his heart.
Defensive runes blazed around her, but a few spells quickly silenced them. They would keep out any ordinary pony, but Twilight was not ordinary.
Hornlight lit the way as she trotted further in. The cave seemed different since the last time she had come for the beast, damper almost. The ground felt spongy, her hooves springing back slightly as she stepped on the red earth. Perhaps it was wet clay?
Twilight stopped. Those stalagmites were a bit whiter than she would have expected, too. And that smell…
Uh-oh.
Her wings beat furiously as the walls closed around her. It wasn’t a cave mouth, but it certainly was a mouth.
Orchid bursts of spellcraft teleported the princess out of the rapidly-shutting maw moments before its lips slammed together. Wheeling around in the air, Twilight turned to face the dragon, now rearing his behemoth body and spreading his wings to fill the cavern.
“Spike, what did I tell you about sleeping with your mouth open! Someone could walk in and get hurt!” She crossed her forelegs, her face knitting into a mother’s frown.
“Well, yeah, if that someone could get past the nine layers of warding runes I carved around this place. Runes that I doubt anyone but an alicorn could pass.” He rubbed sand and diamond dust from his eyes. “You could have knocked, you know.”
“I could have, but I wanted to surprise my best friend on his very special day.” Her anger forgotten, Twilight’s eyes lit up.
Spike raised a three-hundred-pound eyebrow. “Hmm?”
Twilight sighed. A dragon’s… eccentric sleep cycle could make for difficulty in remembering what day it was, especially since he couldn’t exactly get a calendar big enough for him.
“Spike… do you know what day it is?” Her forehooves rubbed together in anticipation. He continued his blank stare.
“It’s your birthday! And I got you a present!” she said, half-singing the last word. She rolled her eyes at Spike’s hesitation. “No, Spike, it’s not a book.”
Her magic surrounded the perfectly wrapped package on her back, the ribbon tied by an expert with centuries of experience giving gifts to her number one assistant.
Twilight levitated the present in front of her, took a quick look at Spike’s six-foot claws, and asked “Um, do you want me to unwrap it for you?”
The ground shook as Spike nodded his head. A smile broke out on Twilight’s face. This was her favorite day of the year.
Her horn shimmered as magic knives snipped geometrically perfect cuts into the purple-and-green paper and unveiled her gift. “I think you’re really going to like this one, Spike.”
The dragon’s eyes widened as the as the glittery paper fell to the ground.
“No way! That’s the Hellpiercer from Warquest II: Return of the Wraithworm! When I sent a letter to the comics shop, they said the replicas were sold out!”
“It’s not a replica, Spike.” Magic arced as papers soared from her saddlebags. “I’ve got the certificate of authenticity right here. The cast even threw in a signed poster!”
Spike’s voice jumped an octave in glee, his words making the crystals in the cavern resonate. “It’s the real prop from the movie! How did you…?”
“Spike, being a princess does come with a few perks.” She dropped to the floor to rest her wings, sitting down on her haunches. For now, she was content to watch the dopey grin spread across Spike’s face, exposing row after row of glistening teeth—teeth that did look rather like stalagmites. Twilight made a mental note to schedule a visit from the dentist; getting Spike flossing had always been tricky.
The lance wasn’t much larger than a toothpick to him, but he loved it all the same. Unfortunately, the list of dragon-sized movie memorabilia was rather short—nonexistent, actually—so Twilight had to make do with what she could get.
His tongue, the only part of himself dextrous enough to hold the lance, carefully lifted it up to his eyes, their emerald gaze devouring every detail of the handcrafted prop.
“Ya nuh, ih ya…” Spike tried and failed to talk with his tongue lolling out his mouth. Twilight caught the lance in her magic, gently lifted it up so he could communicate normally, and gestured for him to continue.
“You know, if you look closely, you can see the damage where Schwarzeneighger scraped it on the Doom Castle wall. And there’s a nick where the stunt double scratched it. And…”
Twilight let Spike dive into a detailed discussion of the lore and legends behind Hellpiercer. Honestly, she had never been a huge fan of the movies—the depiction of pre-Classical Equestrian history was completely inaccurate, for one—but Spike was. And that was all that mattered.
“So the good dragons forged Hellpiercer with their fire breath, and Hoedown the Barbarian delivered the killing blow to the Wraithworm!” Her favorite dragon looked up from the lance for a moment. “Didya hear they’re making another sequel with Matthew McConaughay?”
“I already bought our tickets, Spike.” Getting a dragon-sized movie theater was another perk of being a princess.
He was many times too large, but if he could, Twilight knew Spike would have drawn her into a warm, scaly hug. “You’re the best, Twi.”
She flew closer and nuzzled him, her snout barely perceptible against his armored skin. “Yes. Yes, I am.”