> The Runaway: Journey to Tambelon
>  by Hope Caster
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue: The Abandoned Dragon
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spike never liked being at his uncle’s house. The centaur always seemed to give him a look of some kind, putting in him an urge to cling to his mother for protection. Fortunately for the whelp, his mother and uncle had left for a secluded part of the house to talk. Normally, they would have Spike go outside to play for a bit, but a dark cloud loomed over the city of King’s Reach, foreshadowing the darker times to come.

The five-year-old dragon was forced to wait in the foyer as his mother and uncle finished a conversation down in the basement, possibly the most private room in the house. The dragon wrinkled his nose at the thought of his mother keeping things from him, though she did it quite often. Spike could hear muffled yells coming from the basement, likely his uncle deriding his mother for something that didn’t matter. What worried the child was that, if he listened carefully, he could soft sobs echoing throughout the house. He would need to tell his grandmother that his uncle was being mean to his mother again. If there was one thing that Spike’s grandmother never tolerated, it was his uncle being mean.

After a few minutes, the muffled voices slowly faded and the door to the basement opened with an annoyingly loud creak. Spike instantly became dismayed when he caught sight of his mother. She was a slender dragoness, though she always wore modest clothing to hide it. She was a light pink, the pink that little girls of all sorts were in love with, and had light, lime green spines. Her eyes, which were normally a lovely, sparkling emerald, were bloodshot and her cheeks seemed stained. It was rare that Spike saw his mother cry, but when she did, he always felt a pang of guilt as if he was somehow responsible.

“Mommy?” Spike asked, walking towards the dragonness.

His mother quickly wiped her eyes and put on a smile for a son. “It’s fine Spike, Mommy’s fine. Your Uncle and I just had a hard discussion, that’s all.” As if on cue, his uncle, an aging Centaur named Tirek came from behind pushing past her. He had sickly greyish-red skin and a monstrous scowl that was considered friendly to anyone that knew him. The rest of his body was concealed in a dark cloak, and he always glared at everyone he met. If Spike didn’t know better, he would be convinced his uncle was an evil wizard from one of his mother’s stories.

The centaur stomped through the house, muttering to himself curses and insults. “Discussion. As if I’m able to have a discussion with a wretched woman.” He slowly lumbered through the house and disappeared upstairs.

His mother tensed as she put a hand to her mouth and turned away from her son. Spike quickly darted over and entrapped his mother in a hug. He’d seen his mother upset before, and it usually made her feel better when he hugged her. She told him so.

“Is Uncle Tirek being grumpy again?” he murmured, feeling a twinge of bitterness.

“No, sweetie,” His mother said, chocking down a sob. “Mommy is just having a bad day. I get emotional sometimes.”

It seemed that his hug was doing little to help her this time around. Spike buried his face in his mother’s robes as he tried to recall a few notes of a song she would sing him when he was sad. It always made him feel better when he was sad, so it had to make her feel better. It was like the hugs they gave each other. While he did his best to hum but fell silent as his mother bent down and embraced him.

“How did someone like me get a son as wonderful as you?” She said with a sniffle.“You deserve someone better than me, Spike.”

Spike couldn’t understand why, but tears began to well up in his eyes. “Why are you crying? Did-did something bad happen?”

“No, Spike, no I-I just-”

There was a sudden bang, causing both dragons to turn towards the source. There, draped in his dark cloak stood Tirek with a sheathed sword at his hooves. “There,” he sneered, gesturing to the blade, “your precious sword. Take it and get out of my house.”

Spike took a moment to recall where he’d seen the blade before, only to turn to his mother, hurt. The dragoness cast a momentary glare towards Tirek before facing her son.

“I know, I know.” The dragon put a single finger on the drake’s lips before he could say a single word. She gripped his shoulders for a brief moment before tilting his head up an inch. “Mommy needs you to be strong right now. Just you wait, I’ll be back to tuck you in before you know it.”

Spike bit the bottom of his lip as he struggled to keep himself from bursting into tears. For the past day, his mother had been running about packing things away, and preparing a bag for herself along with very familiar clothes. Spike had a small idea what was happening, but the sword confirmed it. His mother was leaving again. If it was anything like the last few times, it was probably because his father, a gargoyle named Scorpan, needed her to run an errand. It was nothing new. His mother constantly left to run errands for his father, but something felt different this time.

Perhaps he should have known just by looking at her clothes. His mother never seemed to dress in anything but her heavy robes and her worn boots whenever she left. Then there was her sword. It was something of hers that she kept out of his reach no matter how long he held his breath. She normally had his uncle hide it away in one of the rooms in his house until she needed it. Finally, there was his uncle’s house, where he’d normally stay when she left.

His mother stood up and walked past her son. She lifted the sword and slung the strap over her shoulder so that it rested against her thigh.

“Do you need to go?” Spike asked, grabbing his mother’s robes as she walked towards the door. He squeezed the fabric as hard as he could as he tried to keep her from taking another step, but all his efforts proved meaningless as she easily pulled away. The little whelp kept telling himself the same thing that she’d said to him earlier. Before he knew it, his mother would be back to tuck him in, read him a story, and sing him a soft lullaby before he went to sleep, like the dozens of other times she left. Her words did nothing to rid him of the growing tears in his eyes. His mother turned to her son and knelt, cupping his pudgy cheeks.

“Spike, I need to do this.” She took a sharp breath when her eyes met his gaze. “Things will be different when I come back, I promise.”

“Different? You always say that-”

“But this time it will be. We’ll be able to afford a house, and we won’t have to rely on grandma so often-”

His mother often talked about purchasing a house for the two of them, and his uncle if he wanted company. It was a small dream of hers that she clung to throughout Spike’s childhood. She also wished not to rely on his grandmother as they so often did. Spike never understood why she wanted either of those things. The building she often fawned over was bigger than his uncle’s house, but smaller than his grandmother’s home was, where he and his mother currently lived. And his grandmother had told him repeatedly that he and his mother were no burden on her. “But grandma said that-”

"I know what she said, Spike. We'll always be welcomed at her home." She spat the words as if they were poison, something that the young dragon was unable to pick up on. "The house won't be all though; when I get back, I won't have to leave anymore."

That was certainly something that should have lifted Spike’s spirits, yet something in his heart kept urging him to make sure his mother stayed. “But can’t you… can’t dad just have someone else go? Why does it need to be you?”

“Because papa… Scorpan, he… he needs someone like me, someone he can put his trust in. I know how it is. It’s always scary when Mommy leaves, but you don’t have to worry, I’ll be fine, and you’ll be safe. Your uncle is going to take good care of you until I get back.” She gave him a sheepish smile. “Promise me that you’ll be on your best behavior.”

Spike gave his mother a nod as he gripped the sleeves of her robes.

She wiped the forming tears in her son’s eyes before looking towards the brooding centaur who now waited behind him. Pulling Spike into her embrace so that the side of his head rested against hers, she mouthed the smallest request she could to Tirek, something that he was unable to say no to.

“Spike,” She whispered, as she felt his body begin to tremble, “I love you so much. Never forget that.” Fighting back tears of her own, she gave her son one last kiss on his forehead before turning to leave once again.

With bated breaths, Spike tried to move forward and grab his mother, but his uncle's red claw reached out and grabbed his shoulder.Spike tried to pull away, but Tirek got his hands under his nephew’s arms and lifted him up, pulling him into to his chest. Spike’s mind started to race. Perhaps if he called out to her or said he wasn’t feeling good, she would realize that she didn’t need to leave him; his father would understand, and if he didn’t, then his grandmother and uncle could help him understand.

Spike reached out his arms and tried to call for her to stop, but all he could do was cry. Perhaps crying was the better response. No matter the reason, his mother always came to him when he cried. Today, despite his struggles, his waving arms, and his desperate sobs, his mother continued to walk away.

The door to the house closed, and the dragoness vanished.

“Dry your eyes, child,” his uncle said with a cracked, trembling voice, his hold on Spike tightening, “she’s coming back.”

That was the first lie Tirek ever told Spike.
> Days With Tirek
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the eight years that Spike lived with his uncle, he had never once left Arcania. Arcania was the land of gargoyles and centaurs, and had known peace and harmony for countless generations. Surely, there was no better place for a dragon to be raised. The lush forests, the cascading fields, wildflower gardens, the smell of the pine trees in the summer, and at the very heart of the land, the bustling city of King’s Reach. If he were being honest, Spike had never even been beyond the boarder of King’s Reach. The only thing that could compare to the forests and meadows that he’d read about in his books was the castle gardens, which he only had access to thanks to his uncle, though his uncle was rarely kind enough to let him see them.

“Keep up, child! I do not want you lagging behind,” His uncle sneered as he effortlessly walked through the outer marketplace. A lesson he learned early in the eight years of living with his uncle, was that aging centaur loved nothing more than yelling at him, especially if they were in the market for more than five minutes.

The market was not fancy but it was certainly charming. Vendors and stand owners lined the streets, flaunting their products to gain anyone’s attention. All around, centaurs and gargoyles alike wondered, taking short looks at the wares before buying something or moving on. There were fruits, tools, books, and one stand even had toys. Spike tried to steal a glance or two, but each time he did his uncle’s glare fell on him. Perhaps it was for the best, he had better things to focus on.

Spike carried five heavy books, and had another three in a satchel his uncle had recently given him. His uncle, who wore a heavy black cloak and hood that dragged behind him, had two saddlebags full of books hanging off his sides, bags that he wore only on outings such as this. Part of Spike was glad that his own cloak did not drag along the dirt road as his uncle’s, people were likely to step on it and cause him to fall. His uncle didn’t have to worry about such an event, as most people avoided him like a plague. While struggling to keep the books in his arms balanced, Spike stumbled as he tried his best to hurry along the dirt road and keep at his uncle’s side.

“That fool is more trouble than he’s worth,” Tirek complained, not caring if Spike was listening. “He takes his time to get me the books I want, and when he finally does, most of them are faded and falling apart! I swear Spike, your father hired that oaf just to spite me. It’s my job to learn all I can about magic, but Scorpan and that damned librarian refuse to give me the materials to do so. These tomes will only hinder my work, which will hinder your studies, which will hinder my work further!”

Spike remained silent as his uncle complained, ignoring most of what he was saying. His only worry was hiding his face from the passersby. His uncle’s complaining was starting to draw glances and glares form several female centaurs that were about likely running errands. Female centaurs tended to dislike when men shouted, their loud voices tended to disrupt any piece there was. Such was true especially when it came to male gargoyles. Ironic, as the only form of communication they knew was shouting. Other glances came from female gargoyles, who did not look at Tirek but rather Spike himself. They were not of malice, rather of worry and concern. Female gargoyles were the most natural of natural mothers, and it seemed to hurt their hearts seeing a child in some form of distress, even if it was just a dragon carrying a few books while being forced to listen to his uncle’s complaining. There came several asides, and whispers of pity from them, forcing Spike’s cheeks to flush red just a bit.

Looking towards the distance, Spike let out a soft sigh as his grip on his uncle’s books tightened. Spike and Tirek lived on the outskirts of the city; fitting, as his uncle disliked most company. However, their secluded living space made most of their runs into town difficult, as they would buy everything they needed in a single trip, forcing the two to carry larger loads than they could.

As Spike became lost in his own thoughts, a scampering gargoyle mindlessly rammed into him, causing him to fall forward. Spike’s only response was a small, near silent gasp. He clenched his eyes shut and awaited to slam into the ground, but nothing happened. Slowly opening his eyes, he saw that the books as well as himself, had been caught in a fiery orange aura. Spike looked towards his uncle, who had a small light protrude from under his hood.

“Watch where you run, you damned fool!” he barked at the rushing gargoyle, whom continued on his way paying the centaur no mind. Tirek turned his head to look towards Spike. “Mind your surroundings, Nephew. If those books hit the floor they’ll break apart, then where will I be?”

“Behind on your work?”

“Behind on my-” Tirek paused and gave Spike a stern look. “I do not care how right you are, Nephew, it is rude to interrupt your elders.”

“I apologize, Uncle Tirek.”

Giving a slight sneer, Tirek placed Spike back on the ground while he kept the books suspended in the air. His uncle motioned for him to hold out his arms. The moment Spike did so, Tirek dropped the books into his arms, all perfectly stacked. “Hurry child, it grows late,” Tirek said, staring up at the sun. “I do not wish to be out longer than I have to. Blasted star, why must we live in a sweltering land such as this?”

It was only in the eighties. Spike knew this, his uncle knew this, but he still complained anyway. Spike let out a relieved sigh as the end of the market came into view. The journey home would be made easier once they were out of the crowd.

“Uncle, if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly are these books for?” Spike asked adjusting his arms to keep his books balanced.

“I need them to complete spell some sorry excuse of a mage started. I waste too much of my time meddling in the affairs of others.”

“Why do you need books to help you? I thought you were a master magician, don’t you know everything about magic?”

“Listen well, Nephew,” Tirek growled, coming to a sudden halt. He turned his blazing eyes towards Spike. “I am no ‘magician’, I am above that title. And since you insist to waste my time with questions, I will have you know that in this wretched world, there are fools that have far greater knowledge than I. Nobody worth their weight can afford become complacent.” He adjusted his hood for a moment, before continuing down the path.

Fools knew more than his uncle. Spike was unable to understand the statement. According to anyone he knew his uncle had unparalleled knowledge and magical prowess. If he was remembering the term correctly, Tirek was a Sage, whatever that was in the Mage hierarchy. Spike peered up from the books as their house came into view in the horizon. A relieved sigh left his lips as he once again quickened his pace.

Overall, it was a nice house, though it was impossible to tell from the outside. Shutters were scattered about the yard, and the walls could use a washing. Their front door was a hideous red, with a faded copper knob that was in desperate need of replacing. Stopping at that hideous door, Tirek took a key out from under his cloak and placed it in the slot. There was a soft click and he effortlessly pushed the door opened.

Beyond the awful exterior was a house that even the nobles would be jealous of. Throughout the rooms, save for the kitchen and cellar, beautifully designed rugs covered well-polished, brown wood floors. All the walls were paneled and well insulated, keeping both uncle and nephew warm at night during the winter and cool during the summer. There was a large cellar filled with food, a good kitchen, a study that his uncle rarely used anymore, the basement where Tirek spent much of his time, an attic where Spike slept, a library that housed countless books, and past the entry hall, a fine living room where he and his uncle could lounge if Tirek allowed them to.

Spike rushed past his uncle and began to pivot and turn. “Where should I put these?” He asked, looking to his uncle. His claws began to dig into the hard covers has he leaned his body back in an attempt to keep the books from falling forward.

“Go and put them down in the basement, I’ll tend to them later,” Tirek demanded.

“Understood,” Spike grunted. He quickly darted through the house, turning left in their living room and coming to a door that waited just outside the kitchen.

Spike placed the books to the side, sighing as his aching arms were allowed rest. He opened the door, took up the books once again, and slowly made his way downstairs. The basement was the messiest room in the house, though his uncle called it organized chaos. Everything had its place, and to touch anything was to anger his uncle. Although it seemed to be cramped, the room was quite spacious once he or his uncle organized the countless scrolls, books, plates, cups, and discarded notes.

However, even if his uncle cleaned the room, it would become filthy again in just a short time. Amongst the mess, there was a small cot in the corner of the room, his uncle’s bed. Spike didn’t understand the sleeping arrangement, but he couldn’t complain. After all, Spike slept in the attic. To the far end of the room rested an aged chair and large desk that housed small storage spaces for important documents and personal notes that his uncle kept to himself.

Spike placed the first set of books on his uncle’s desk, and then slipped the last three from his bag, placing them on his uncle’s rickety chair. He looked around the room and noticed several dirty dishes that lingered in odd places, all in need of a good cleaning judging by the amount of mold that clung to them. Spike would take care of those later. Making his way to the steps, Spike heard a slight shuffling from upstairs, followed by a string of curses. His uncle was looking for something. Perhaps it was some other old book that he had put away and forgot about or an old quill that his late grandfather had bequeathed to Tirek. Whatever it was, Spike was sure to help his uncle look for it when he came to the main floor.

As the drake came out of the basement, he was met with a fierce glare. His uncle seemed to slither towards him, his hooves not making a single sound as they hit the floor. “Spike, where are those reports I told you to write? I thought I made it clear to you that you were to leave them in the library when you were done. So help me, if you didn’t finish-”

“They were finished last night Uncle Tirek. I just forgot to bring them down,” Spike interrupted as he closed the basement door. “I can get them if you want.”

“I wouldn’t be asking about them if I didn’t want them.”

“Yes uncle, I’m sorry.”

“Get to it then!” Tirek shouted.

Spike flinched before scampering up to his room in the attic. The attic was quite possibly the nicest room in the entire house, save for the library. Cream-colored carpet covered the floor, and hanging above Spike’s bed was a skyline, which allowed him to look at the stars at night if he wanted to. His bed was one of the most comfortable beds any boy could ask for. His blankets and covers were warm; he had a bureau where he kept his shirts, cloaks and a scarf that he used when it was cold out, and a desk facing the left wall. On that desk sat his work from the other night, a detailed report on the history of both Equestria and Griffonstone, two nations to the east and a report on magic and morality.

Spike grabbed his reports from his desk and quickly returned to his uncle, who sat tapping his boney fingers against the arm of an armchair that once belonged to Spike’s late grandfather, Vorak.

"About time," Tirek hissed, grabbing the papers from Spike. "Next time, leave them in the library as you’re told!"

“Yes uncle.”

Tirek quickly skimmed through the first page of Spike’s reports. As he crushed it, Spike knew he shouldn’t have skimmed his assigned chapters. His uncle looked towards him with a scowl. He mumbled something before continuing, growing angrier with each passing second. Spike prepared for the worst as his uncle crushed several pages of his work in one hand.

“I often find myself wondering why I bother teaching you. Why is it that everything you write is worthless?” Tirek threw several pages of his work on the floor as he stood from his seat. Spike tensed as his uncle began to pace around the room, reading page after page, growing more and more displeased.

“What on Earth were you doing when I left you in your room last night!?” He sneered as his claws ripped the current page to shreds. “Need I watch over you every moment, you-” The centaur paused as he skimmed through the last few pages that Spike had turned in. Tirek read the report several times, before relaxing just the smallest bit, muttering, “This is… passable. Good to know you didn’t waste all that time.”

Spike let out a silent breath as weight slowly lifted from his shoulders. He’d been in similar situations before. He would normally be confined to his room on Sunday if every page turned in was worthless. Unfortunately, the sigh was not what his uncle wanted to hear.

“Do not think you’re off the hook!” He snapped. A small orb of fire formed between Tirek’s two very small horns. Spike tilted his head down and let out a defeated sigh as his uncle reduced his work to ash. “Go to your room, and re-read everything from Magical Morality to The History of Equestria and Griffonstone. I expect your rewrites to be perfect. Are we clear?”

Spike nodded his head, looking towards the floor as he did so.

“Look me in the eye, boy. Are we clear!?”

“Yes, Uncle Tirek,” Spike said, facing his uncle.

“Then I suggest that you get on with it.”

Spike shuffled back up to his room, letting out a small groan as he slipped off his aqua-green cloak, something that his uncle made him wear, and tossed it on the floor. He stumbled to his desk, which was much nicer than what he thought he deserved. It was made of mahogany, as mahogany was the only wood that his uncle would consider buying. It was well polished, and had carvings of flowers and birds travelling down the edges. The draws had an abundance of paper, textbooks and scrolls, more paper, sealed inkwells, inkless pens and quills, more textbooks, scrolls, and paper, and an adventure novel that he had hidden in the bottom right-hand draw, something that his uncle would love to destroy if he knew of it. Taking a seat, he laid his head top of the desk as he looked towards a small framed picture that rested on against the wall.

“He’s mad at me again,” Spike sighed. “I kinda deserved it though; I skimmed my sections again.” Spike looked longingly at the picture, as a heaviness appeared in the center of his chest. “I know. I need to do better. He’s a good teacher and he takes good care of me; I just miss you. You were the best teacher ever.”

Spike knew he had to break the habit of talking to the picture on his desk, but his heart wouldn’t let him. The picture was nothing more than a small sketch of his mother curled around him when he was an infant. It was the only picture Tirek allowed him to keep; the rest were in his Grandmother’s basement for whatever reason he had for keeping them there. Maybe it was so that his father had access to them, without the need to see Tirek. His uncle and his father hated each other for one reason or another. No one ever explained it to him, but he wished there was something he could do to fix it.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recall everything he could about his mother. The sound of her voice, how soft she was when teaching him to read, her hugs, the kisses he would receive when he hurt himself, he even tried to remember her scent, but all of it seemed so blurry. Something that frightened him was the fact that he couldn’t remember the color of her eyes.

His thoughts turned to his lessons. Tirek was good teacher, there was no doubt. In just two weeks, his uncle had taught him could a spell called Candle Light, which allowed Spike to make a small orb of light for a short period of time.

Lifting his head from the desk, Spike decided to get to work. There was no point to him lingering on the past. His mother was not there to teach him, so the responsibility fell to his uncle, who had expectations he wanted met. Spike took his textbook and opened it back up to the previous chapter. When he was finished reading, he moved onto the second. Taking a quill and an inkwell from his desk, he began to work on brand new papers.
> Spike and Tirek's Dinner
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spike let out a sigh as he watched the white sands of the hourglass slowly drained into the bottom portion. His uncle’s scolding played in his mind repeatedly as he tried to figure ways to improve his work further. Spike had been told he made improvements, but the fruits of his labor was far from the quality his uncle wanted.

“Perhaps we should go over your vocabulary,” His uncle had muttered. “You’ve seem to have forgotten what perfect means. What else should I expect from you though? Go make us some dinner. Might as well be useful in the kitchen.”

While Tirek kept him busy with his studies, Spike also had several chores to tend to around the house. Sweeping, dusting, and even laundry all fell to Spike, as well as cooking. His culinary duties made Spike relieved that his uncle spared no expense when he built the kitchen. After all, Spike’s grandmother constantly said that food was only as good as the kitchen it was cooked in, and they had one of the best kitchens in Arcania.

There was a large stove with enough room to make six dishes at once. Next to the stove, a sink so Spike could clean the dirty plates and cups. On the left side of the stove was a stone countertop that was perfect for cutting meats and vegetables. Along the back wall was brick oven that could roast all kinds of meats. To the left of the cooking stations was a door that led to a large cellar filled with meats, cheeses, vegetables, fruits, more meats, countless containers of spices, boxes of teas, baked sweets, juices, and finally, wines. Spike didn’t know how the food stayed so fresh given that it sometimes sat for weeks, but his uncle gave him a rather simple answer. “Because of me.”

Tonight Spike had decided to bake a turkey, one of his uncle’s favorite foods. In case it was not enough to lift his uncle’s spirits, he had already cooked several side dishes and had brewed some of his uncle’s favorite tea. All that remained was the roasting bird that, judging by the smell and the sound of its simmering juices, was almost ready to come out of the oven. All that remained were a few moments of patience. The last of the white sand fell to the bottom of the hourglass and Spike instantly perked up.

Opening the oven, a powerful aroma wafted through the house, alerting Tirek that dinner was ready. Spike had already placed a bowl of vegetables, some gravy, freshly baked rolls, pan-fried fish and the tea in the center of the dining room table so that he and his uncle could reach each dish with ease. Spike grabbed the metal pan with his bare claws and carried it to the table, putting it atop three thick cloths. There was no point for Spike to wear oven mitts, as dragons could withstand most high heats. It was especially useful when handling boiling oil, as it was only warm sludge to Spike.

The moment Spike set the roasted fowl on the table; his uncle came lumbering in, taking his place at the head of the table. His uncle was not a healthy centaur by any means. Both sets of Tirek’s ribs were visible and each step, though precise, was unnaturally slow for a centaur. His two metal wristbands clung poorly to his wrists, and even his horns were much too small for a centaur his age, which was 72 to be exact, though most would say he looked to be almost 153. His arms seemed to lack any muscles, and his four legs did not look any better.

As Spike worried about his uncle’s physique, Tirek eyed each bit of the meal. It was pleasing for the most part. The rolls were steaming, the vegetables seemed fresh, the fowl had been baked perfectly, and best of all, the gravy seemed to be perfectly brewed. There was only one thing missing. “Where’s the wine?” Tirek asked, scowling at the steaming pot of tea.

“I-In the cellar,” Spike responded, taking a roll from the basket. He nibbled on the bread, hoping his uncle would leave it at that.

Tirek gripped the edge of the table, digging the tips of his nails deep into the wood. “So, you make dinner, and by your own volition, you leave out my wine?”

Spike put the roll down on his plate as he struggled to think of a response. “Well, I just thought yo-you’d like some tea instead.” He swallowed a forming lump in his throat before continuing. “I could get some cake from the cellar to go with it if you want.”

Tirek’s stare flattened. “Of course you would get me some cake. It’s certainly one way that you can ease the sting when you deprive me of one of the few joys in my life.” Tirek snorted as he lifted the pot and poured some tea into a small cup. “Part of me wonders what keeps you glued to that seat of yours. How arrogant must you be to sit there as you dictate to me, your uncle, what I am allowed to drink?”

“I-I’m the one who cooks, why can’t I decide what we drink?” Spike said, mumbling the last part.

The moment Spike’s words reached him, something snapped within Tirek. With his face twisting, the old centaur leaned in towards Spike. “Nephew, need I remind you who heads this household?” Spike tensed just the smallest bit as Tirek’s fingers contorted. “It seems that you forget who pays for the food you cook. Did you also forget whose home you cook the food in?” Tirek asked, reaching out and tearing a leg off the roasted bird. “Care to remind me whose roof shelters you from the elements, and keeps you warm at night?”

Biting the inner part of his cheek, Spike let out a small sigh as his head tilted downwards. “I’m sorry Uncle Tirek, but I don’t think wine is something that you need to have.”

“Don’t you dare talk back to me!” Tirek shouted, slamming his fist on the table.

Instantly Spike shrunk down in his seat, his eyes clenched shut.

His uncle glared at him as he reached for the gravy, pouring a bit of it on his drumstick. “What does a boy like you know about needs? Your needs are taken care of daily! And is it not I who takes care of them?”

“Yes, Uncle.”

Tirek spat out a sigh. “Your mother told me that dragons were a selfish lot, but ungrateful is certainly new. What is it that I give you? Lessons in all subjects, food, clothes, and a warm bed so you may rest your head. How do you repay me?” He asked, taking a bite out of his food. Swallowing, he answered, “By asking your poor uncle to deprive himself of a drink that allows him to relax after he works so hard to provide for you, a boy whose mother wanders the world for his father. Tell me, how is this justified?”

Spike remained silent as he stared at the table.

“Answer me, child.”

“I-it’s not.” Spike finally answered

Satisfied with the answer, Tirek let out a humph as he continued eating. “This comes from your father, no doubt. That blasted gargoyle, Mother and Father should have beaten the insolence out of Scorpan. If they’d done that, perhaps you would be more appreciative. But no, whenever your father was mentioned, only praises were sung. They called him charismatic, wise, understanding of the commoners!” Tirek lifted his cup and tipped it back, taking a much-needed sip of tea. “At least you are not like your siblings.”

Spike could see his uncle’s anger reigniting when he mentioned his siblings. His teeth began to grind as his horse legs tensed.

“Horrid, self-entitled wretches are what they are!” Taking half of the fish, Tirek began to munch loudly. “There’s no doubt in my mind that the only reason your mother left you with me was to keep you from ending up like those brats!”

“They’re not all like that,” Spike said, with much more force than he meant to. His uncle raised a single brow in response. Spike let out a sigh as he stared a hole into the floor. “Uncle, I think I’ve lost my appetite,” He finally said, pushing himself away from the table. “I’m going to go upstairs. Just call me when you’re finished.” He hopped down to the floor and started to leave, only to freeze when his uncle slammed his fist on the table.

“You are not going anywhere. Sit down and eat,” Tirek demanded, stacking the bones of his fish on his plate. Using his magic, he pushed the fowl towards Spike’s end of the table.

“It’s okay, Uncle, I’m just-”

“I’m not giving you a choice,” Tirek said in a hushed voice, taking a handful of rolls from the basket. “The last thing I need when your mother returns is you telling her how I starved you some nights. She wanted you taken care of, and I will not have you make a liar of me.”

Knowing that it was futile to argue, Spike returned to his seat and tore off a wing. He munched slowly as his thoughts fell on his siblings. Of his family, excluding his mother, Spike was the only dragon. His brothers and sisters, of which there were nine, were either gargoyles or centaurs. His older siblings, especially his eldest brother, saw him as a lesser. Those that were around his age tended to shy away from him, save for the youngest of all Scorpan’s children, whom thought him to be the greatest thing in the world. Spike looked at his own claw as a thought crept into the forefront of his mind.

“Uncle Tirek, why don’t I look anything like my dad or Grandpa?”

Swallowing his food and refilling his cup with tea, Tirek answered, “You can thank your mother for that. You were born to a dragon, therefore a dragon you are.” Igniting a small ball of fire between his two horns, Tirek traced a boney finger along the back of the turkey. The roasted bird fell in half, with Tirek taking the half with a missing leg. “There are races, like ponies, that can mix and become something new. Gargoyles and centaurs are a race that cannot. They can breed with one another, but the resulting child is either one or the other. When a male has a child with a dragon, this is our downfall. Dragons hatch, and only a dragon may survive in their egg. You are just what you should be. And in a way, you are part gargoyle, just as am I. In your veins flows the blood of Scorpan, the blood of a gargoyle, just as Haydon’s blood flows through my veins.”

“But then-”

“If you wonder how I know you are my nephew, how your father knows that you are his son-” Tirek lifted his half of the turkey to his mouth and bit into its flesh, ripping off its moist white meat and crisp, flavorful skin. “-I used alchemy,” He said as he chewed. “It may as well be the most worthless subject there is, but it has its uses. Now eat, I don’t need you complaining about an empty stomach later tonight.”

Spike began to carve his half of the bird, and slowly ate his fill.





There was nothing left of the meal by the time they were finished. Spike began to collect the dishes. “So, how was it?” Spike asked as he hopped on top of a stool and placed the dishes and silverware into a tub of water. Taking a brush, he began to scrub the bits and pieces of food off the plates.

“It would have been better had your work not soured my mood,” Tirek grunted, stretching his arms. “I expect you to do better tomorrow.”

“I’ll try.”

“If you’re only going to try then you’ve already failed,” Tirek sneered. “Trying is non-existent, there is either success or failure. So make sure you succeed.” He stood up and cracked his neck. “Clean up, and get to bed as soon as you’re done, I want you up early tomorrow. Perhaps if I keep an eye on you, you’ll actually do well in your studies.”

Tirek retreated to the basement, leaving Spike alone with his chores. As he worked, Spike periodically glanced towards the basement door. There were several clanks as his uncles loud grunts and annoyed growls seeped softly into the kitchen. After he finished cleaning the dishes in the sink, perhaps he could collect the dishes from his uncle’s room. At least then, Tirek could work without worrying about plates falling over.

Spike quickened his pace as his eyelids began to grow heavy. His grandmother’s turkey recepe always did seem to tire the poor boy out quickly. Fighting the urge to scurry up to his bed and sleep, Spike finished scrubbing and placed the dishes on a rack to dry.

Stepping away from the sink, Spike went to the basement entrance. He gently gripped the doorknob and slowly opened the door, careful not to make a sound. The only light that leaked into the darkness of the stairwell was the light that came from the countless lanterns that hung about their home. Taking a deep breath, Spike began his descent.

The steps creaked loudly with every step that he took, no doubt alerting Tirek of his presence. With each creek, he could hear his uncle’s voice grow more and more frustrated. Upon entering the room, Spike noticed that the only light was a dim candle on his uncle’s desk. “Uncle Tirek?” Spike called as he stood behind his uncle.

“Is this your room?” Tirek asked.

“No, but-”

“Spike, what did I tell you to do when you finished washing the dishes?”

“I was to go straight to bed, but Uncle, I-”

“Then there had better be a good reason that you are in my workspace, and not brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed,” Tirek growled, rolling up a scroll.

“I heard a few dishes clatter and I just thought that maybe you’d like me to collect them, Uncle,” Spike said.

Tirek murmured to himself before unraveling a new scroll. “So gallant," He said, "cleaning a room you have no business being in. Anything if it allows you to stay up. I suppose that you’ll want to stay in bed just a few minutes longer tomorrow because of how hard you worked tonight?”

“No Uncle. I promise that I’ll get up early.”

“What a meaningless sentiment,” Tirek grumbled. “Very well.” An orb ignited between his horns. All around plates and cups began to gather, stacked in a single neat tower. Tirek turned away from his desk and made his way up to the main floor, with Spike quickly following.

“Uncle, I can-” Tirek turned his head and raised a single brow. “Nevermind,” Spike mumbled.

Tirek placed the stack next to the sink. “After you finish cleaning these, get to bed. No excuses. Are we clear?”

“Yes sir,” Spike nodded.

“Good.”





Spike put his clothes into a bin that rested at the foot of his bed, replacing his eveningwear with a single nightshirt that stretched down to his ankles. It had taken him half an hour to clean the second set of dishes, but he was happy to do it.

Spike walked slowly as he made his way through the room; the only light that illuminated his path was a small candle that stood at the side of his bed and the moonlight that came through the room’s skylight. Spike climbed into his bed, and fell face first into his pillow. Wrapping himself in his covers, he turned to look at his desk.

“Night mom,” he said, stealing a glance of his picture. “I love you.” He blew out the candle and let the sound of silence carry him off into sleep.

He had a dream he was with his mother and father.
> The Rainbow Rogue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

While Arcania was a mostly peaceful nation, with numerous villages untouched by corruption, there something about the dark that tapped into the primal fear of all people. And for one of nobility, night was hardly the ideal time to travel, even in the city of King’s Reach. He was a scrawny centaur, not rare by any means. He kept himself bundled in his robes, as he silently crept along the dim roads, keeping close to his guard. A deal that would make him a bundle was going well, but negotiations had lasted longer than he had wanted.

“Are you unable to hurry up?” The centaur said in low whisper. “I wish to get home while I still have something of value.”

The guard let out a soft sigh as his own thoughts were slowly drowned out by the whines and whimpers of his employer. In his opinion, it was pointless to be terrified in King’s Reach. Efforts from the king and the town guard had deterred crime to a near standstill, with only small petty crimes being committed. Anything more serious than pick pocketing was met with a flail or the axe if it was called for. This fact did little to ease him employer, who would jump at the sight of his own shadow if given the chance.

Perhaps it was his attire. He had on him the most flamboyant violet robes, several rings, a large sack of coins that was secured to his belt, and a ruby medallion that had been in his family for generations. Had this been any other city, he would have been begging someone to rob him. Never the less, this was King’s Reach, and any Arcanian would be a fool to rub them. The back roads of the city must have instilled a shadowy dread in the back of his employer’s mind. There had been rumors going around about a band of thieves, and then a gang of bandits, and finally a small army of murderers were traversing the city at night and attacking individuals. Utter rubbish in his opinion. They would have been caught by now.

The centaur motioned for his guard to hurry along, as he kept looking out the corner of his eye. For the past week, he couldn’t help but shake the feeling that something, other than his guard of course, was watching him. Images of monsters flashed in his mind. Shadowy things that slithered out from the darkness pouncing and driving venomous fangs into his neck before fleeing to parts unknown with all of his valuables. As he dwelled on these foreboding thoughts, something slammed into his chest knocking him to his haunches while feathered arms seemed to claw at his chest. He let out a shriek of fright as his arms flailed about, striking the monster a few times before scrambling towards his guard. “Kill it, kill it!” He demanded, screaming to the high heavens as if a wolf was attempting to rip his throat out. “Whatever it is, kill it!”

The guard rolled his eyes, embarrassed at his employer’s shameful display. If he had kept his wits like he had, his employer would have noticed a very little pony. In fact, that was all there was, a little pony that looked almost as frightened as the centaur. She, and he was assuming it was a she as ponies of both genders looked alike to gargoyles, was a cowering mare that hid behind her wings, likely trying not to be struck again.

“Don’t-don’t hurt me!” She wept, unable to even peek out behind her blue wings or her shaggy rainbow hair. Her little body shook as soft sobs could be heard. It was almost heart breaking for the gargoyle to listen to someone so adorable and innocent grovel and beg for her life, as if he and his employer were monsters ready to rip her apart.

The guard drove his spear into the ground and knelt down before the equine. With a slight hesitation, he reached out and began petting her head in an attempt to calm her a bit. If this had been done in Equestria, the guard would have received a swift smack across the face. However, it seemed the Pony, whoever she was, welcomed the attention. Her wings dragged across the ground before snapping to her side. She looked up at him, with tears still fresh in her eyes.

“It’s okay little one,” He said as softly as he could, “we’re not going to hurt you.”

Looking into her wide eyes, the gargyole noticed that her eyes seemed to sparkle a bit, melting his heart. While this may seem like an amazing feat, it was actually very easy. Most anything could melt a gargoyles’ heart, especially adorable things like ponies.

The mare cautiously pulled her head away from his hand. “I-I’m sorry,” she said with a sniffle. “I’m a bit I got separated from my friends and I-” She paused for a moment, noticing the cowering centaur behind the gargoyle, and took a step back.

The Gargoyle himself shot a glare at his employer. There was great shame to be had in Arcania for striking a woman, even if that woman was a mare. “Sir, it’s okay, it’s just an Equestrian.”

“You don’t know that!” The centaur said. “She could be a changeling! And that could be a pick pocket, a thief, a bandit wishing to lead us into a trap before her cohorts descend on us like spiders!”

“And do what, snuggle us to death? Stop cowering like a woman.”

The mare shot a glare at the guard, even though his back was turned to her. Woman was such a derogatory term to ponies. The term was mostly used in Arcania but originated from the extinct human tribes. She imagined some fat scholar sitting around with other fat scholars and saying, “It’s too difficult to learn what ponies wished to be called. Let’s just call them men and women. Why, of course we should do it for all races! Why bother learning theirs when ours is good enough? They all mean the same thing anyway.”

The mare quickly put on a frightened expression, suppressing any growing annoyance, just as the gargoyle turned back to her.

“You said that you lost your friends. Do you have any idea where they might be?”

“D-do you know where the Slumbering Dragon is?” She asked. “We said we’d meet their if we got separated.” She placed a hoof on his arm, sending a chill up his spine from contact alone. The mare of course did this on purpose, as it was quite easy to fluster something as stupid as a gargoyle and doing so boosted her ego.

The gargoyle, now with flushed cheeks, had to give her a bit of credit for making it this far. She was not that off from the Slumbering Dragon, though she had increased her journey by taking the back roads. It was likely a lapse in judgment caused by being in an unfamiliar land with unfamiliar creatures. His heart went out to the poor thing. “Well,” he said, in a deep voice, trying to make himself sound more powerful and alluring as he could. “It’s not too far from here actually, my master and I could show you the way if-”

“Absolutely not!” His employer called out. “Just give her some directions and send her off on her way! I’m onto you, you lecherous swine!”

“Ignore him,” The gargoyle said. Before He could say anything else, a yellow aura pulled him away from the mare and towards his employer.

“We’re not wasting our time on her!” There was something about the mare, a glint in her eyes, that filled him with unease.

“Fine.” The guard began walking backwards. “Just follow the main roads and flag down some guards, they’ll help!” With that last note, he turned and followed his employer.

The centaur hurried along the road, starting to feel safer with every step he took. Yet, there was also a sinking feeling in the pits of his stomach. Was he forgetting something? If so, what could it be? He was just about to start patting himself down only for the soft voice to earn his attention.

“Wait!” The mare called. They looked back to see the mare carrying a wallet on her back. More accurately, it was his wallet.

When the mare was in reach, the Centuar quickly snatched the purse away from her. He gave a look before turning to leave tugging at his guard’s sleeve.

“We were lucky that she saw that,” the guard said.

“No, she was lucky we don’t report her for stealing it.”

“She’s a Pegasus, she could have flown into the sky the moment we started leaving.”

“She couldn’t do that because she was dumb enough to tell us where she was staying. Once I noticed my wallet was missing, I would have half the guard looking for her.”

As the bickering faded into the distance, the mare smiled to herself, relieved that she managed to return the wallet before they were too far away. It made certain that they wouldn’t notice that the medallion the noble was once wearing was missing until later that night, or the next day. It was the very medallion that she had tucked between her side and her wing. All that remained was reuniting with her friends.





There were several maps and blueprints strewn across the table as two ponies strained themselves trying to get a sense of them.

“This is impossible, Spitfire,” a stallion said with a whimper. “We go in through the air, we get shot. We go in through the front, we get stabbed and shot. We go in through the swearers, we get covered in crap, stabbed, and then shot.”

His companion said nothing, choosing instead to look at a picture and the maps they were provided with before coming to King’s Reach. It was a detailed sketch of a ruby medallion. The gem was half a foot in diameter, carved from a fire ruby, something obtainable only in the Dragon Kingdom, and worth a king's ransom to the right buyer.

The ponies had been hired to steal it from a cowering centaur who threw money at whatever interest him in the moment. If stolen in a timely manner, they would be given a small bonus, but they only had until April’s end. This gave them a little over two weeks to steal it, which was proving to be difficult, especially since their third member was constantly leaving them in the middle of the day, only to return late at night.

There came a gentle knock at the door. “You guys in there?” a voice called, raspy and yet still sounding surprisingly giddy.

“Soarin, let her in,” Spitfire said, tracing her hoof along the floorplans of the mansion.

Soarin undid the locks and allowed the friend entry. “Hello, Rainbow Dash,” Soarin greeted as she casually walked passed him. “Nice of you to drop by earlier than usual.”

“No problem! How are you guys doing, make a plan yet?” she said taking a seat across from Spitfire.

“No, because you decided to go off, again.” The mare peered up to shoot her a glare. “I’m docking your cut, if we can even steal the damn thing. When we get back, I’m telling Wind Rider how you went off on your own every day for the last three weeks.”

“Oh, he’ll be mad I wasn’t a team player,” Rainbow said, tilting her seat back and balancing on only its hindlegs. “Anything I can do to change your mind and keep quiet?”

Spitfire slammed her hoof on the table. “How about you help!? Soarin and I have been combing over the mansion, his security, everything, and we haven’t come any closer to finding any weak point!”

“Sounds hard, and I hate all that planning stuff. I have to read and study, and that’s so boring! I’m a doer, not a planner. How about I just steal the ruby myself?”

“Cause you’re just that good!” Spitfire said, rolling her eyes. There was one thing that Spitfire never liked about Rainbow Dash, it was her ego and her lackadaisical approach to thievery. Not to say her pride wasn't earned, however it was likely to lead her to a unfortunate situation one of these days, and end with her at the gallows or the ax. “Tell you what, if you can steal the medallion by tomorrow morning, you can have my cut!”

“Really?! You got yourself a deal!” There was a sudden bang as Rainbow Dash threw the medallion down on the table. The silence was music to her ears. She wanted to have a painter capture it in a lovely portrait, using his finest equipment. She would have it hung in her home, across from the foot of her bed, so she could look at it every night before she fell asleep and right when she woke up the next morning. She leered from side to side, drinking in the looks of shock.

“You’re kidding me.” Spitfire finally spoke, as a chill ran up her spine. Rainbow was going to hold her to the promise she just made.

“You little minx!” Soarin cried, grabbing the medallion. “How did you get this?”

“By stealing his wallet at the same time and giving the wallet back,” she said with a smile. The trick was easy if you were Rainbow Dash. She had the softest touch of anyone in her guild, and it had only served her when she wanted it to. She frowned and began to whimper. “B-but don’t think me a thief! I was just confused. After all, I-I'm just a poor wost, widdle pony that was frightened of the d-d-dark! Ha! The Gargoyle with him ate the act up! One look and he was head over heels!”

“Really, you pulled the cute, helpless pony trick?” Spitfire asked.

“Hey, as the world’s greatest thief, I’m open to any tactic that gets me what I want. So what if it was a little degrading for a minute or two? Sue me! Beside's it's not like you two were making any progress.”

“Who cares about the time we wasted? Mission accomplished! Let’s get drunk!” Soarin shouted.





It was near midnight by the time the group entered a tavern that was across the city. Being a group of thieves, it was important to spread themselves across any area, it tended to confuse the guards once claims that ponies stole from mighty and hulking gargoyles and powerful centaurs. A fortunate stereotype in Arcania was that ponies were the purest of all creatures in the world, which was true for the most part, but not for them. They seemed to revel in the muck of sin and hedonism. Spitfire especially loved buying a stallion once a job was completed, preferably an Earth Pony if one was available. Soarin was less wasteful, and only bought two small souvenirs to commemorate his exploits. Meanwhile Rainbow Dash adored luxuries. Not in a vain way, but in a comfortable and lazy one. Anything that improved her sleep she would purchase, and she was a avid fan of a fine cider found in Apple Grove, a very rich town in Equestria.

Rainbow felt a great deal of pride in her work. In fact, she liked to believe that stealing was the reason she was put on this earth. Sometimes thievery was all she thought about. She’d saw several wallets on drunken bastards just asking to be taken. She remained in control of such impulses though, there was no need take any unnecessary risks. The mare smiled to herself as Soarin brought over several pints of ale and a pie. There was nothing quite like enjoying some booze after stealing from someone rich.

As soon as he placed the platter on the table, he stole a large slice of pie and plopped it onto a small plate. Soarin had loved pies ever since the three of them were foals, though, his favorite kind was apple, especially when served with a large dollop of whipped cream and cinnamon. The stallion took one bite, only to immediately spit it out. “What kind of crap are they selling here!?”

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. While he loved pies, Soarin was a bit of a spoiled brat when it came to food. In fact, he was owed to a tavern in Apple Grove. Then again, perhaps the tavern wasn’t what interested Soarin. The owners had a very attractive daughter that waited tables from time to time, and being a stallion, Soarin found it difficult to ignore her.

Soarin glared at the peach pie and let out a snort. “I miss Apple Jewel’s cooking,” He muttered, putting his head on the table. “There’s no way she would’ve served something like this. The ale probably sucks to.”

Rainbow snickered into her mug. There wasn’t a chance that the ale could be that bad. She began to gulp down her drink, which soon tapered out into a long sip. It was drinkable, but perhaps Soarin had a point. The cider at the Sweet Apple was much better than whatever swill that the gargoyles had given them. There was a bitter aftertaste that ruined the drink for her. And, while it certainly looked like it was cooked well, the pie smelled too much of cinnamon. Perhaps she was a bit spoiled as well.

“So, how’d you steal it?” Spitfire asked in a quiet voice voice. “Doesn’t he usually have a dozen guards on him when he goes out?”

Rainbow Dash wanted to regale them with a tale of suspense and action, but that would be lying and she was above lying to people she wasn’t going to steal from. “Honestly I got lucky. Every time I went out, I found him, tailed him, and looked for some opening, but there were so many guys with him one of them was bound to notice something. But I think tonight there was something he wanted kept quiet, so he only kept one guard. I took a chance, pretended to be a cute, helpless little pony, and with these,” she wiggled her wingtips as if they were fingers, “I got his wallet and his necklace.”

“But you gave the wallet back?”

“He noticed something missing, so I gave him it to ease his mind.” Rainbow Dash tilted her cup back. “I just have to lay low for a day. The guys think I’m staying at the Slumbering Dragon, and I’m pretty sure the gargoyle was wrapped around my hoof. If anything, they’ll think they dropped it.”

“Not bad, Dash. Wind Rider’s going to be over the moon when hears about this.”

Rainbow Dash puffed her chest out and grinned. She never minded hearing praise from her guild and would relish in any praise that Wind Rider gave her. She had something of a special relationship with the guild master, but that was a story for another time.

“If we leave by tomorrow night, we might be able to make it back to Equestria by the end of the month,” Spitfire said into her mug in an attempt to keep quiet. She took a slice of pie and bit into it. She immediately spit it out like Soarin. “Ugh! What’d they use to make this? Freaking Arcanians, if it’s not meat, it’s not edible!”

Rainbow Dash’s face fell at the idea of leaving so soon. “Yeah, about that, I think I might stay a little while. You guys should just go on ahead.”

“Any reasons as to why?”

Rainbow Dash leered to each side of her before leaning in towards her friends. There were no secrets between the burglars in her guild, it was the one rule to keep them honest with the only ponies that mattered, each other. “A few days ago, I saw this gargoyle chick in walking around with a mare in fancy clothes. I tailed them home, find that they live in a mansion! I asked around, and it turns out that they live alone! No guards, no other maids, just a gargoyle and some prissy looking unicorn. I didn’t think I’d have any time to hit the place, but since we have the necklace, I thought that maybe in a day or two, I’d sneak in, grab everything that I can, and get out! They probably have all kinds of junk lying around waiting to be stolen!”

There was a slight groan from the other two thieves, but ultimately, they relaxed themselves back into their seats. “If you want to stay, then stay. More pie for me when we can really celebrate,” Soarin said with a growing smile.

“Sometimes I think the pies are the only reason you like that barmaid,” Spitfire said.

“That’s not true! I like everything she cooks! Plus, she has a great flank.”

“You’re a pig.” She turned back to Dash. “I can’t say that we can join you, as tempting as stealing from a rich old maid would be. Someone needs to get the rock back to the client. You know how those Unicorns get, you’re an hour late and they get cheap.” Spitfire shook her head as she gulped down her drink. “Four-eyed, upper crust jackass. Whatever you do, don’t get caught. We don’t have the sway here like in Equestria. You’re caught, you’re done.”

“Please, like I’d get caught.” Rainbow said, as she managed to stomach the rest of her drink. What Rainbow Dash couldn’t know at the time was that her new mark was nothing like the other mansions and aristocrats she’d stolen from. Unlike those, this Mansion would soon house a dragon, centaur, and a second gargoyle. “Soarin, there is something I might need from you though.”

“What do you need?”

She smiled a devious little smile and said, “I just need a letter.”
> A Peculiar Party
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was going to be the greatest knight who’d ever lived. Looking down at his son, who laid in the crib swaddled in his mother’s blanket, Bright Macintosh knew that his son was going to do great things. He would not live the life of a farmer as his forefathers. Why would he? He had something that no other Apple or Pear had ever had before: a large horn protruding from his head. The first unicorn to be born to their family. His wife sat with her head against his, her hoof gently stroking the side of their child’s face. All they needed now was a name. And he had the perfect name. They would name him….





Mcbiggen plunged his sword into the ground as his vision slowly came back to him. Twelve corpses, each with several large gashes in their torsos and necks, surrounded him. All of them were gargoyles, hairy creatures that were foreign to his home in Equestria. Some of the gargoyles had swords; others carried iron knuckles while the last of them had a bow.

He didn’t have the right to complain about his current job. He chose to be bodyguard after all, and a stallion lived with his choices. The pay was as good as it got, that was something he couldn’t argue. His employers would give him 50 pieces of gold the moment he delivered them to an area of Arcania where an old recluse lived, a centaur if he was remembering correctly. He wondered why three ponies had any business with a centaur, but it was not his place to ask.

A slight chill crawled up his spine as his thoughts fell on his employers. He cursed himself for sending them off in a random direction when the fighting broke out. While their absence did alleviate any short term pressure to keep them safe,it only provided that much more stress after the dust settled.  He quickly banished the thoughts from his mind. It was the right thing to do, sending them off. If he were to die, and if the mares were able to survive somehow, they were obligated to send 25 gold back to his family. It was a comforting proposition for him. At least if anything happened to him, they would know and have some money to help keep their inn afloat.

Mcbiggen rested his head against the handle of his blade to catch his breath as blood slowly trickled out from three wounds he had received. He didn’t feel any pain, just a swearing sensation, as if someone was pressing a heated brand against his flesh. He took several deep breaths as the adrenaline drained from his system, listening to the rustling of the leaves and snapping of twigs as the three mares he told to run slowly came back to him.

“I see you did quite a number on them,” A yellow mare said, examining the corpses strewn across the forest floor. Her name was Adagio Dazzle, a yellow earth pony, leader of their party. Her hair was a vibrant orange and was as puffy as a cloud. She wore a sleeveless top, a short skirt, and leggings that allowed her tail to poke through the fabric. Her eyes were a piercing violet, and her voice sounded like it could to enchant all sorts of men. She seemed to slither towards Mcbiggen as she began to examine each of his wounds, making sure to trace along every muscle she could. Though he could not be completely sure, Mcbiggen swore that she licked her lips at one point. “And they seem to have done a number on you.”

Of course she’s the first one back.

For the past few weeks, there had been no greater thorn in his flank than Adagio Dazzle. Adagio was a pretty mare, a stallion who laid eyes on her would tell you that. Pretty as she was, she was much to forward for his taste. Though he was not one to brag, many mares saw Mcbiggen as an attractive, rugged stallion. He towered over other stallions and would be able to take on a buffalo single handedly. In Equestria, such strength was prized. So, it was no surprise that Adagio saw him the same way.

However, there was something else about her that put Mchbiggen on edge. He noticed a hunger in her eyes whenever they were alone. The gleam in her eyes weren’t like the eyes of other mares. Then again, that could just be her natural look. Perhaps, had he been just a few years younger, he would taken it as a go ahead, and tried to get just the two of them in a room by themselves the very first night, and every night since.

Adagio began to trace one of three wounds, a large gash in his leg, eliciting a sharp breath from him. The second was a wound he received taking an arrow to the shoulder. Some small part of Mcbiggen was almost disappointed that the archer missed anything vital. He had already ripped the arrow from his flesh, and it now rested in the throat of the archer. The final wound was in his lower back leg, where a gargoyle had sliced him with a knife. Mcbiggen had used his magic to turn the knife back on its owner, plunging it into his heart. He was lucky to be wearing such heavy, black armor. Though his injuries primarily covered his legs, he’d be able to walk away from the experience, unlike the gargoyles who wore mostly animal pelts.

“There, there,” The mare cooed as she gave him a small peck on his cheek. Mcbiggen jerked his head away and let out a snort. His blazing gaze would have frightened off any person, however, after showing it to Adagio so often, all it did was elicit a small giggle from the mare. “Come now, a little kiss won’t kill you. The blood loss will. How about that we get you fixed up? Aria, we need you,” she called, looking back into the woods.

Mcbiggen eyes looked past Adagio to see a second mare approaching. Aria Blaze was a unicorn like him, with light blue and deep violet pigtails turn towards them. She wore mostly baggy clothes, which kept her body well hidden. She was not one to emote, and constantly sighed whenever anyone spoke.

“What is it, Adagio?” Aria grumbled.

“Get the needle, Mcbiggen needs to be stitched.”

Mcbiggen let out a grunt as Adagio moved her hoof to his arrow wound while Aria rummaged through her bag, pulling out a steel box.

“Should I help with something?” The third and final mare asked, coming to the clearing. Her name was Sonata Dusk. She had a very light blue coat, and light blue hair with deep purple streaks running through. She wore a loose fitting, short dress, tight leggings, and a red pendant around her neck like the others.

“Sonata, go search the corpses. See if they have anything good on them,” Adagio demanded, her eyes never leaving Mcbiggen’s body.

“But I don’t wanna loot the corpses again,” Sonata cried, stomping on the ground. “I had to loot the last few people he had to kill, make Aria do it!”

Mcbiggen tried to be annoyed with Sonata, but found himself unable to do so. Though she could come off as annoying, Sonata was a child at heart. Her innocence reminded Mcbiggen of his own sisters, of which he had two. Perhaps that was why he was so tolerant of her. His sisters. He couldn’t help but ponder about them. One was a young mare by now, and the other only a tender child at the age of twelve. He still wondered if they were okay, kept safe from any seedy customers that wondered into his family's tavern. Hopefully his cousin, an auburn stallion, was taking good care of them.

“Aria needs to suture Mcbiggen, Sonata. If she helps you, he dies,” Adagio explained.

“And what are you doing? Why don’t you help?” Sonata asked, huffing at Adagio.

“I’m providing Mcbiggen with some much needed emotional support!” Adagio wrapped her arms around his neck and put her head against his. “You need someone to hold onto in this most trying time, right Mcbiggen?”

“Nope.” He growled in a deep voice. The last thing he needed whilst getting stitches was a clingy mare that didn’t understand personal space.

“I’m sorry; it sounded like you’re telling me to loot corpses, like I’m Sonata.” Adagio’s eye twitched a bit. Never had she been relegated to grunt work, she was normally the supervisor.

“Yup.”

“I see. Sometimes I wonder why I bothered hiring you,” she grumbled. “Come Sonata, the quicker we finish, the quicker we can leave them to rot.”

Mcbiggen fell to his haunches and tensed as Aria approached him with a bottle, a piece of cloth, a matchstick, and a threaded needle. She uncorked the bottle and poured a clear liquid on the cloth. He shuddered, knowing what was going to happen next. Mcbiggen was no stranger to stitches, but it never got easier the more he needed them. It was hard to name the worst part. The disinfecting portion stung like hell, but the needle filled him with dread. Not to say it hurt all that much, it was more in his mind than it was anywhere else. Just the thought of anyone plunging a needle into made him want to take his chances with bleeding out.

“Leg,” Aria demanded.

Mcbiggen didn’t move.

“If you want to die do to blood loss, more power to you. Your family gets 25 gold, and are told that the reason you died was because you were too big a baby to get a few stitches.”

Letting out a sigh, Mcbiggen held out his foreleg and clenched his eyes shut. A burning pain shot through his body as Aria poured the liquid into his wound, forcing him to let out a curse.

Aria rolled her eyes and forced an arrow shaft into his mouth. “Just bite down on that whenever you need to,” Aria said, readying the needle as she pressed the cloth against the wound.

Mcbiggen nodded as his teeth clenched down on the arrow. He nearly bit it in two when the needle entered his flesh.

Nearly an hour had passed before Aria tied a knot at the end of Mcbiggen’s last laceration. Lifting up a pair of shining silver scissors, she carefully cut the suture’s short end and made one last stitch, entering the very end of the wound and exiting upward through his skin.

“There we go,” she murmured, cutting off the remaining thread. She wiped the sweat from her forehead before taking a bandage from the steel box.

Mcbiggen spat out the arrow and began to get control of his breathing.

“In pain?” Aria asked as she wrapped the bandages over his wounds, tying them off.

“Yup,” he growled.

“Well, that’s what happens when you don’t let us handle things.”

Mcbiggen rolled his eyes. Every time a minor situation came up, the mares said that they would handle it. While not meaning to insult them, Mcbiggen doubted that three little fillies could do much against a band of bandits or a towering, drunken gargoyle that got a little too handsy. He normally ended up taking care of the problem, as he did with the bandits. Besides, if they could take care of things, why did they need him?

Aria tied the last bandage off, and looked past Mcbiggen towards Sonata and Adagio, who were sitting against a tree. Adagio sat organizing their findings, while Sonata held a cloth to her mouth, with her eyes clenched shut. She rocked herself back and forth, letting out small whimpers.

“Adagio, what’s wrong with her?”

“It smelled,” Sonata said, as tears welled in her eyes.

Mcbiggen couldn’t help but feel sorry for the youngest mare. It was difficult to get used to the smell. There were days that he had trouble handling it, and gagged every so often. Still, there was no point in trying to fix what was wrong, the best they could do was move on.

“Wipe that look off your face, Mcbiggen, it always smells, she just needs to get used to it,” Adagio said, lightly hitting the back of Sonata’s head.

It was almost scary how well Adagio Dazzle was able to read him. He wondered if she knew what else he was thinking.

“And no, they didn’t have anything good on them. Just a few coins.”

“If they don’t got anythin’, let’s get a move on,” he said, standing up, stumbling each step he took.

“You’re the guide, why not?” Adagio nodded, slipping the extra purses of coins into her own bag. It was probably for the best. Though they could not know for sure, the slain bandits could still have friends that would have surely come searching for them.

“Whatever,” Aria said, slinging her bag over her back. Sonata weakly flapped her wings and followed the party.

Shaking off any lingering pain and discomfort, Mcbiggen found a stride and continued leading his party forward.

The sun was almost set by the time they made it out of the forest and approached the capital city of Arcania, King’s Reach, also called Castle Town by the locals. Mcbiggen effortlessly outpaced the mares, even with the slight limp he walked with. He could feel how lively the town was even from so far away. A castle loomed in the distance, shining with a silver gleam, surrounded by countless buildings of both wood and stone.

The ponies trotted along a dirt road, passing several farms on the very border of the capital, with crops starting to bear fruit and vegetables sprouting from the earth. Seeing the toiling gargoyles and the occasional centaur out in the fields filled Mcbiggen with a sense of nostalgia that Adagio immediately noticed.

“Something the matter?” She purred, rushing ahead of Aria and Sonata to walk next to Mcbiggen.

“Nope.” Mcbiggen focusing on the road ahead of them, trying his hardest to ignore Adagio.

“Are you sure, Mcbiggen?”

“Yup.”

“If you say so. Girls,” Adagio turned towards her sisters, “keep an eye open for a nice inn.”

Mcbiggen paused for a moment. Inn? Why would they need to go to an inn? Surely, they would be able to complete their journey tonight, and by extent, go there separate ways. “Why not go to yer destination?”

“He can talk,” Adagio gasped, before letting out a light chuckle. “Mcbiggen, it’s much too late in the day to stop there. The centaur, he hates guests this late. Perhaps If you’d let us handle the scuffle in the woods, we could have made it. Unfortunately, you needed to show off. So, we’ll have wait until tomorrow.”

“Nope!” Mcbiggen declared.

Adagio smiled. “Mr. Mcbiggen, I’m not making a suggestion. It’s the inn, or we go our separate ways and you can explain to your family why they’re not getting much money from you.”





Mcbiggen bitterly followed his employers to an inn called The Sleeping Centaur. Upon entering, they found that the innkeeper, a youthful, female gargoyle, hovered about while making sure her workspace was in order. The main lodge separated off into two hallways. In one direction the aroma of baked goods, smoked pork, and fried treats seeped forth, enticing nearly all who entered. In the other direction, drunk patrons stumbled into the hallway towards their rooms to rest their bodies and nurse their hangovers the next day.

“Smell that?” Adagio asked, stopping the group. “Sonata, how long has it been since we had a good meal?”

“Weeks,” Sonata mumbled, “and I said I was sorry! I’m not good with tying knots, it’s not my fault that a manticore ate all our food!”

“Yes it is,” Adagio said with a growl. She forced herself to smile before turning to their bodyguard. “Mcbiggen, while the three of us check in, why don’t you get us some food?”

Mcbiggen’s eyes narrowed. She was planning something; there was no doubt in his mind. Adagio was not a chaste mare. She practically threw herself at anything with a pulse and spent nearly the entire trip trying to tempt him with his more primal urges. At the same time, it was hard to pass up an order to fill his stomach with good, cheap food.

Noticing a small twinge of desire in his eyes, Adagio produced a small bag of coins and tossed it to him. “By all means, Sir Mcbiggen, feel free to splurge. You earned these afterall.”

With a small grin, he lifted the bag of coins up in his aura and trotted down the hall.

As she watched him leave, Adagio chuckled to herself, licking her lips as she took her time to watching his flank. She always did preferred him leaving a room than entering one. While Adagio took time to admire Mcbiggen’s assets, Aria trotted up to the counter and gave it three knocks.

The gargoyle gasped and quickly shot her head up. “I’m terribly sorry. Welcome to the Sleeping Centaur, how may I help… you… ponies,” she said as her head slowly tilted to the side. She fell silent, even as the mares became annoyed.

“Arcanians,” Adagio sighed. Putting on a sincere smile, she cleared her throat, bringing the gargoyle back to her senses.

“Oh, my sincerest apologies, malady. How may I help you and your party?”

“Two rooms please. One for those two,” she said, motioning toward Sonata and Aria, “and one my knight and I. We’ve had a long journey, and need some privacy.”

“Oh.” The innkeeper’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson, nearly matching the skin of a passing centaur. “Right away.”





“Sure you’re Equestrian, boy?” The bartender asked as he placed a third platter of fritters in front of Mcbiggen. “I swear, I’d say that you’re more of an Arcanian with an appetite like that.”

The stallion shrugged, smiling as he reached for another fritter. For the first time in ages, he almost felt like he was home. He was still without his family, but the food more than made up for it. He followed his meal down with half a tankard of ale that tasted almost as good as his family’s cider. He noticed that If there was one thing that Arcanians knew, it was how to brew some good booze.

Stationed around the table were two small goblets and a mug full of beer. One contained a fine red wine for Adagio, as she only ever drank wines, or champagnes if the meal called for it. The mug of beer was for Aria. It was a simple drink for a simple mare. She would not speak to them as they enjoyed themselves; she would just listen and drink. Finally, there was Sonata’s drink. Sonata loved sweet drinks. He didn’t know exactly what the bartender had brought him, all her knew was that girls around town liked it.

“These seats taken?” Adagio asked taking a seat next to Mcbiggen as Sonata and Aria sat across from them. Sonata picked up her drink, took a sip and then proceeded to gulp the beverage down. Aria rolled her eyes and slowly sipped her beer.

“Nope,” Mcbiggen said, before swallowing a mouthful of food. “Did y’all get rooms?”

“We certainly did,” She pushed a key with the number twenty-four carved into the metal towards him. She looked to the center of the table where a platter of greasy looking fritters sat. “Did you order us anything that isn’t deep fried and fatty?” Adagio nudged the platter of fritters away from her, and towards a waiting Sonata.

“Nope,” he answered with a smile. He took a sip of ale as Adagio and Aria gloomily took a fritter. “So what are y’all hopin’ to find once ya get to this centaur?”

“That’s on a need to know basis,” Aria said.

“Yeah! You’re being paid to get us from point A to point B. Why would you need to know that we really want to meet his pet dragon? I mean, I guess it wouldn’t hurt telling you, but we’re not supposed to! Can I have more of that drink? I could use more of that drink!”

There was a short silence between the three mares as Aria and Adagio stewed in their own growing anger, glaring at their youngest sister.

“Sonata, if we’re still sober later tonight, we are going to have a very long discussion about what ‘need to know basis’ is,” Adagio said through gritted teeth.





Their meal lasted well into the night before the party decide to retire. The mares had all headed to their room after having a cup of alcohol each and a few fritters between them. If they got up early enough, perhaps Mcbiggen would be able to shepherd the mares to their destination and be done with the job. He opened the door to his room and slowly lumbered his way towards the bed.

In addition to being some of the best tasting booze, Arcania seemed to brew some of the strongest alcohol there was. Sonata was reduced to mumbles and slurs while Aria struggled to walk straight. The only one that seemed to hold her liquor was Adagio, and Mcbiggen didn’t know if that was impressive, frightening, or both.

Mcbiggen used his magic shut the door before locking it, placing his sword, a black piece of sharpened steel, against the foot of the bed along with his bag. The bed was bigger than he expected, not that it was a bad thing, just out of the ordinary.

More room fer me, he thought, joyous at the aspect of having his own bed to sprawl out in. For weeks he’d been confided to a tent that was nearly too small for him, in a sleeping bag that felt more of a prison than it did propper bedding.

Beside the bed were two nightstands, one on each side. He placed the key Adagio had given him on the right nightstand and let loose the straps of his armor, allowing it all to fall to the floor with a thud. He took a deep breath as he removed his helmet and allowed his bright orange hair to fall free before running his hoof through it, stopping just as he reached his unicorn horn. That accurst, useful horn. There were times he wished for it to be removed. However, such things would only come back to bite him. There were more than one occasions that his horn had saved his life, and had helped his family back home.

Mcbiggen was the only one in his family that had a horn. His sisters, his cousins, his aunts, uncles, mother and father were all earth ponies. His father used to tell him that the Old-Gods, the supposed keepers and guardians of the world, smiled upon his birth, and blessed him with the strength of an earth pony along with the horn and magic of a unicorn. Despite knowing better, he still desperately clung to the explanation.

Mcbiggen levitated his sword and placed it near his armor. There was a slight chill in the air, the feeling digging up memories of him, his sister, and his cousin. On cool nights, the three foals would wrap themselves in a blanket as their granny read them stories of Knights and Dragons, Trickster Humans, and even star crossed lovers. If their Grandmother’s stories couldn’t settle them down for bed, then his cousin would recount the time he dreamt that a swarm of fairies saved their farm from a horrid case of apple blight, and gave him a cloak. If he hadn’t kept telling the story to everything that walked, perhaps it would have been a staple in their collection. The one thing that his cousin could never explain why the fairies helped them.

Finally, there were the cold, sleepless nights when his baby sister would wail with all her might. His mother would do her best to calm her, but it normally fell to him when exhaustion finally caught up with the mare. Mcbiggen would lift the baby in his aura and wrap her in a quilt that his grandmother had made. Not too loose, but not too tight so that she was uncomfortable.

After that, he’d put her back in her crib, tell her a story about their late father, a good stallion if there ever was one, and give her a kiss before carrying their mother back to her room using his magic. There was never a time Apple Bloom stayed up after he did that. He could feel his heart crush itself as his thoughts fell on his precious baby sister. She was such a small filly the last time he saw her, she probably didn’t even remember what he looked like.

As Mcbiggen rocked himself back and forth, a gentle hum filled the room, slowly easing his mind and body. He wanted to question where such a tune was coming from, but he didn’t. There was something enchanting about the song. The notes slowly drew him deeper into a trance as the hum turned into a harmonization. It lasted several minutes, but when it finally ended, his body became more relaxed than it had been in years. For some reason, it made the memories of home even warmer. It brought a genuine smile to his face.

“Something on your mind?” He heard Adagio ask as her forelegs wrapped around his neck. She leaned her head against his, enjoying the warmth from his body.

“Yup.” he mused as his eyes lidded.

“Nice to know you’re finally opening up to me.” Adagio rolled her eyes before leaning in and giving him him a small peck on the cheek. If not for his fur, the blush would have been noticeable. “What are you thinking about?” She gently hummed as she traced her hoof down his body, careful to avoid his stitches.

“Home.”

Adagio paused her song. “What about home though? No one can be that deep in thought over nostalgia.”

“I haven’t seen my family in a while,” he admitted. Some small part of his was screaming to stay silent, but for some reason, his mind refused to do so. “I just wonder if they’re alright. My baby sister, shoot, she probably can’t even remember what I look like no more. Probably has her cutie mark. That’s somethin’ I can’t get back.” Mcbiggen let out a sigh as Adagio gently kissed the crook of his neck. This was almost nice. He was alone in a room with a warm bed and a gorgeous girl. Maybe tonight was going to be better than he expected.

As Adagio left a trail of kisses down his neck, there came a cry from inside his heart that shook his entire body.

Wake up! It shouted, jolting him. His eyes shot open as his senses returned to him.

He slowly turned his head to see Adagio, wearing nothing but a thin, almost see-through nightgown, as her hooves traveled down his chest. His instincts screamed for him to throw her away from him, slap her, anything that resulted in a painful reminder of who he was. However, a little voice in the back of his head told him to handle things in a calm manner.

“What are ya doing in my room?” He asked, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. Adagio looked almost shocked, before giving him a smirk.

“Your room?” Adagio let out a small giggle before explaining, “Oh, Mcbiggen, this is my room. I need my own space after all.” As her eyes became lidded, and her smirk grew. “Of course, I’m more willing to share a bed if it’s with a stallion who needs his sword polished.”

“It’s next to the nightstand if you want to get started,” He said, pointing towards broadsword. “Tell you what? Take my sword back to ya’lls room, and you can polish it there while I get some sleep.”

“Not that kind of sword,” she hummed. “Come now, don’t be such a tease. Those gorgeous locks, those green eyes of yours, they’re all just perfect. And your body, sweet Poseidon, your body. How is it that a unicorn gets so toned?” Her hooves moved to his underbelly, gently tracing over his faded scars.

“I’d appreciate it if you stopped feeling me up. Side’s I have three stitches I need to take care of. Don’t want ‘em ta break.”

“Oh, don’t be like that; I’m the victim in all of this. I’m just a poor, lonely mare that’s never really known love. I can’t help it if I lose my composer at the sight of a strong stallion,” She whimpered. “The boys at home are all scrawny little things that don’t have the will to even look me in the eye. But you’re able to stand up to me! I can’t help but be attracted to that. Can you at least tell me your real name? Surely you’re parent’s couldn’t have been that cruel to name you something so horrid. Besides, depending on what happens, I want to know what to scream.”

Mcbiggen sat silent as he pondered. His real name? He didn’t even remember his name at this point, or perhaps he did and he just wanted to forget it like an embarrassing moment from his childhood. It could be that Mcbiggen was his real name, and it was just so stupid that nobody could take it seriously. He closed his eyes as she removed her hooves from his front and drew them towards his back.

His breathing and temper steadied as Adagio began to draw circles on his shoulders. “It’s been a long journey. You and I had to deal with a brooding teenager and a child trapped in a mare’s body every day and night for the past five weeks. So why not just relax, lay down, and let me do everything I can to relieve you. I promise,” She tilted her head up to his ear and whispered, “It’ll be a nice time for the both of us.”

As a small hum filled the room again, Mcbiggen started to find the offer tempting.

“Nope,” he said, shaking the thoughts from his mind. He lifted Adagio in his golden aura and carried her to the door. He expected Adagio to thrash about, complain, or whine, but all she did was stare at him. There was no malice in the look, just curiosity.

“G’night,” Mcbiggen mumbled, placing her outside of the room. The door slammed shut and he was once again alone. He crawled into his bed and slowly closed his eyes, only to be disturbed by a powerful knock. Opening the door, he found Adagio looking at him with a lack of emotion.

“Didn’t I kick you out?”

“You kicked me out of my room, yes. My companions aren’t answering the door,” Adagio said as she ground her teeth into a fine white powder. “I do not want to pay for third room, so may I sleep here if I promise to keep my hooves to myself?”

“Fine.” He leaned in and matched her intense stare. “And no hummin’. It’s messing with my head.” Adagio grunted in agreement and walked passed him, climbing into the bed. “Hell are you doin, girl?”

“You don’t expect me to take the floor, do you?” She asked.

“Yeah, I am.”

“So to be clear, you going to make a mare sleep on the floor?” She raised a brow.

As much as he wanted to respond, he couldn’t. That little voice in the back of his head berated him once more. His father had instilled in him a need to make sure a mare was always treated right, even if they were more of a harpy than a mare. Letting out a sigh, Mcbiggen took his sleeping bag from his saddlebag and rolled it out on the floor.

“If you get lonely, feel free to climb into bed,” Adagio said, laying on her side. “It has to be more comfortable than the floor.” Mcbiggen refused to respond. For the first time in his life, Her smile made him want to strike a mare.





Mcbiggen’s head pounded against his skull as he slowly crawled out of his bag. Images haunted his dreams last night. Well, they weren’t haunting, just unwelcomed, all of them featuring himself and Adagio partaking in less than modest activities. He looked towards the bed to see Adagio sleeping soundly, looking pleased with herself. He had to finish his job, before Adagio broke him. It was no longer a matter of if, rather when. He quickly changed his bandages before gathering his equipment and putting his sleeping bag back into his saddlebag. He picked up Adagio’s discarded clothes and tossed them into the bed, the Impacted stirred Adagio from her slumber.

“What is it?” She whimpered, stretching her limbs. “Are we going to have fun?”

“No. Get dressed, we’re heading out in ten,” Mcbiggen said, lifting his armor in his aura. With total precision, the Mcbiggen strapped the armor to his body in a matter of moments. He placed his black iron helm on his head and slung his sword over his back. “Anything you don’t have on by the time I get back is being left behind.”

“Mcbiggen, I know you don’t understand this, but I plan on looking presentable when we meet our host,” Adagio said, knowing that her hair was a mess. “Why don’t you wake up Aria and Sonata, tell them to get ready, then you can grab some of that greasy, fatty food you love so much. We’ll meet out in the front when we’re ready, or you could help me get ready, lord knows I need someone to wash my back.”

“How about-”

“It’s not something that’s up for negotiation.” Adagio climbed out of the bed, and made her way towards the bathroom, making sure to flick her raised tail every so often. “In my opinion, the second choice would be a lot more pleasurable for both of us.”

“I’ll go get the others,” He hissed, his blood slowly coming to a boil. “Just be ready soon.”

“If you insist,” Adagio sighed, lowering her tail.

Mcbiggen slammed the door as he exited the room. There was something not right about the mare. Not much was able to shake the stallion, but the song somehow did just that. It was so pure and gentle when he first heard it, yet recalling each note made his stomach churn. Could Aria and Sonata do the same? All three of them said they could handle everything that they encountered, so did that mean that all of them were able to do what Adagio did? If so, what was it? Earth Ponies, to the best of his knowledge, were incapable of using magic of any sort. Could it have been a charm? Mcbiggen left the questions behind as he came the Sonata and Aria’s door, and gave it three gentle knocks.

“What is it?” Aria asked opening the door. She was dressed in a plain white nightgown, and slowly rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She blinked twice, revealing her bloodshot eyes  a few times before finally being able to see straight. “You look horrible. What did she try last night?”

“She hummed a bit.”

There was a sudden change in Aria’s expression as her face morphed into a scowl.

“Of all the-” She stopped herself from uttering a word, allowing a silence to grow between the two as she shook her head. “Did anything happen?”

“No. I was fuzzy for a bit, but I shook it off.”

Aria kept a straight look, still shaking her head. “I’ll have a talk with her after Sonata and I get ready. Why don’t you get some food while you wait? Just send us the bill.”





Mcbiggen belched as he finished his second serving of fritters. He quickly followed his meal down with a glass of milk. Despite the warm feeling in his stomach, there was a sense of danger lingering in the air. The way Aria acted, it made him worry like he did when he couldn’t find Apple Bloom or Applejack late at night.

She knew what Adagio was able to do, that much was certain. It almost seemed taboo though. Never during their journey did Aria say that she would talk to Adagio, not even when he begged her to. He was just thankful he was able to keep control of himself. Mcbiggen shuddered as one final question entered his mind. What would have happened if he didn’t wake up like the voice said? He would probably woken up with a mare pillowing his chest.

Putting a few coins on the table, he made his way out of the inn and sat against a wall. There was nothing like a good meal to make him feel better. When he was a small child, his Granny always made sure to have some food on hoof just in case he ever turned up fussy. He knew not to make a habit out of eating to cure fear. If he did, he would not be able to fit in his armor.

It wouldn’t be long once the mares met with him. They would head east and he would finish his job. He rubbed his eyes as a single question lingered bounced around in his head. How far was east? Eastern part of the town, the market, the city itself? They were so vague with their plans for the entire trip; the only thing he knew was that they needed to visit a centaur for his pet dragon. What was so important about a pet dragon though? What could a fire breathing reptile have that made a trip like this worth it? Mcbiggen heard the door to the Inn open as his party joined him outside. They had changed their clothes to formal sundresses, each a color to complement their complexion. Adagio stood out the most, with a small saddle bag slung over her back.

“Ladies,” he said, bowing his head, shooting a slight glare at Adagio. The mare gave him a smile at him and blew him a small kiss. Aria quickly elbowed her and gestured towards Mcbiggen.

“I know, I’m just having some fun,” Adagio whispered. She cleared her throat, before standing up straight. “I apologize for my behavior last night. What I did was purely selfish and uncalled for, and I wish to put it behind us.”

Had any other stallion raised him, Mcbiggen probably would have told her to go to Hell. Unfortunately, he was raised by Bright Macintosh Apple, and he was a stallion that would sooner see his son dead than insult a mare, especially after the mare had apologized for her transgressions.

“I suppose it’s alright. Nothing happened, so we’ll jus’ pretend last night never happened.”

“Oh, Mcbiggen, that is absolutely marvelous to hear.”

“It really is!” Sonata added. “Considering we could get in a lot of trouble for singing outside of a dire emergency, and-” A loud smack echoed throughout the market as Aria’s hoof came down on Sonata.

“Just ignore her.” Aria said, shaking her hoof. “Get us to the house, we’ll pay you, and we can all go our separate ways.”

They could all do it, whatever it was. Mcbiggen began to re-evaluate the situation. Not only did all three mares know about the song, it seemed as if all three of them were able to sing. THey constantly told him to let them handle most situations, did that mean they would sing? If so, what would happen, and why did they hire him?

“Going our separate ways sounds good. So, where am I taking y’all?” He asked, after mulling over the questions for a few short minutes.

“First, we’re heading to the center of the market,” Adagio said. She showed him a map of the city and pointed to a star connected to a red line. “From there we head east until we reach our destination.”

“How will we know when we get there?”

“You’ll know. The house is different”

When the group reached the center of the market place, they headed towards the east in as straight a line they could. They past several houses, and even some patches of farmland, but each time he stop to ask if they had past the destination Mcbiggen was told to keep moving.

As they continued east, all signs of the town slowly faded, leaving only dried grass and dead land. Arcania was a naturally lively country, only the beaches on the coast lacked any amount of green. Therefore, the fact that the area they were entering seemed to lack any life at all made Mcbiggen raise his guard, especially as Adagio neared closer to him. The mares seemed not to mind the abnormality, and continued down the path as if nothing had changed.

Half an hour passed before any new structure came into view. All that he could see in the distance was a horrid looking house that looked as if someone abandoned it long ago. The front door was a hideous red, with a faded copper knob that was in desperate need of replacing. The shutters were scattered about the yard, and every inch of the walls could use a washing. All across the yard, weeds and vines spread about, yet they never came close to the house.

“So, where’s the house y’all need to get to?” Mcbiggen asked, wondering they had passed their destination by mistake.

“That is the house we need to get to,” Adagio said, pointing to a lonely house that loomed over them. “I told you, it’s different.”

“You ladies sure that this is the place?” Mcbiggen asked as he came to a near screeching halt.  Looking at their destination, he could not help but feel like he was sending three unsuspecting mares to their deaths. After all, he was not sure that Aria and Sonata deserved what was waiting for them inside. Then again, perhaps they could finally handle a situation by singing a few notes together.

“We’re sure. Not to worry, the interior should be nice. Mcbiggen, I’d be lying if I said that I got everything I wanted out of this venture, but it is what it is. Aria, pay the stallion if you would.” Adagio began to saunter towards the door, leaving Sonata and Aria behind.

Mcbiggen’s eyes narrowed as Aria approached him with not one, but rather two large bags of coins in her aura. “What’s this?” He asked, lifting the bags in his own aura.

“A small thank you for what you did the other day,” Aria clarified. “And an apology for Adagio. She’s our leader, but she’s a handful.”

Mcbiggen placed his payment in his own saddlebags that hung off the sides of his armor. Before Aria could turn to join Sonata and Adagio, who were making their way towards the house, Mcbiggen used his magic to tug her tail. “Why’d y’all hire me?”

“What do you mean?”

“That singing thing, I’m guessing the three y’all can do it. That’s what you meant by handling it. If you three can screw with people like that, why did you hire me for protection?”

Aria could feel a bead of sweat begin to form on her forehead. There were so many things that she could say. She could explain that he was a mere contingency, something to be had in the event they couldn’t sing. She could say that they had only recently perfected their song, and were nervous using it on large groups. There were countless lies to tell, however, Aria decided to tell the truth.

“We didn’t need you for anything. Adagio saw you, thought you were hot, and probably fun in the sack, so she offered you a job so she would have plenty of time to get what she wanted. When it was getting close to the end, she decided to sing. Consider the song a tantrum thrown by a spoiled brat that finally heard the word no. If you’ll excuse me, I need to join my group.”

Mcbiggen released Aria’s tail and allowed her to return to Adagio and Sonata. With his gaze fixed on the ground, he began his trek back into town. Part of him knew he was a piece of meat to Adagio, but he didn’t expect that all he was. Looking at his injuries, he cursed himself for putting himself in harm’s way the other day. He could have died, and for what? Some mare that wanted him to take a roll in the hay.

He shook his head as he came to the more lively land. The fresh air began to slowly rejuvenate his spirit, and, for a brief moment, he smelled the fields of Equestria. There was a weight lifted off his shoulders as he walked further and further away from the mares. Dare he say, it was peaceful.

What would he do now? First, he would need to find a currier and have at least half of his payment sent to his family. After that, he would take a week off from job hunting. He would find a cheap place to rest and wait for his wounds to heal, before beginning the cycle again doing odd jobs or perhaps some familiar farm work. Some small, insignificant part of him was disappointed though. He wasn’t going to meet the fabled centaur the mares constantly talked about.

If only he knew at the time that he would soon meet Tirek in just four days.





“I can’t believe you sang.” Aria’s voice dripped with venom as she caught up with Adagio. Mcbiggen had just turned to leave, leaving the three mares to meet with Tirek.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Aria. What’s so bad about me drudging up the fun thoughts in his head? I’m wondering how he broke free.” Adagio looked back at the stallion as fire ignited deep in her being, sending a twinge of excitement to her core. “I find it exciting. He may have looked ready to kill, but his type of will he has is rare. Oh, the things we’d do if it just faltered.” Adagio became lost in her fantasies. A shiver went up her spine and she bit her lower lip. Thoughts of the stallion giving in and throwing her down filled her mind, sending surges of electricity throughout her body.

“Just remember, we’re not supposed to do that crap here.” Aria’s voice ripped Adagio away from her fantasy, just as things began to get rough. Aria quickly turned to Sonata and shot her a look. “And you, keep your hole shut. The last thing we need is you saying anything that comes into that empty head yours.”

“I know not to sing here, Aria. That would go against orders. And I’m sure that despite her mental impairment in regards to most social situation, she can keep quiet and be her usual annoying self. The dragon’s young, he might find her adorable. You can do that, right, Sonata?” Adagio looked towards Sonata to receive a nod. “Excellent.”

Smiling, Adagio gave the door three powerful knocks.
> Unexpected Visits
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Why do I let that fool have any say in his court magicians? Tirek thought as he finished penning a letter to Scorpan. It seemed that every mage Scorpan hired was trying to kill everyone in the capital city, albeit unintentionally. 

The centaur sat emotionless as he looked at the scroll that had been given to him last week. This time, the spell proposed would “materialize an object that was lost in the past” by combining two classes of magic that had no business with one another. The first class was pure heresy, mingling in the concept of time, and the other was a alchemy, the lowest class of magic. The result would have killed everyone in a five-mile radius. 

Tirek tapped his finger on the scroll and reduced the spell to ash. He would send the strongly worded letter to Scorpan later in the day, hopefully resulting in the firing of the mage. The moment he stood to stretch his aching legs, Tirek felt a slight pain as his stomach began to rumble. Something else to sour his mood this morning. Spike, being the slothful boy that he was, had yet to wake up and start cooking breakfast.

Normally, Tirek would have dragged him out of bed, however, after looking at the calendar that hung on his wall he decided to leave the whelp be. It was April the 15th, a miserable little date that held no importance to anyone in his family. Even Spike’s mother was around on April 15th eight years ago, so the date had no significance what-so-ever.

It was nothing more than an irresponsible act of kindness. As unfortunate as it was to admit, Tirek was a martyr to his own generosity. It was he took who Spike in, provided for the lad, and devoted his time to teaching him, all because his poor mother asked him to. All Tirek ever asked in return was effort in when the dragon did his chores and studied. The way Spike repaid him was almost a spit in his face. The dragon rewarded himself for turning in pitiful work the previous day, slacked constantly to read fantasy, and the boy had the gall to dictate to his dear uncle what he would eat for dinner.

Tirek climbed the steps and went to his library, putting his reference books in their proper place and the letter on his desk. Before he could turn and leave to get something from the pantry, three powerful knocks echoed through the house. The centaur lifted a brow as he tried to fathom who could be disturbing him. He was not expecting guests today, and if he was not expecting guests then it was likely his mother’s handmaiden, an annoyance if there ever was one.

His mother used the equine as a stick to beat his patience, having her constantly ferry Spike away to the gargoyle's mansion. If there was a silver lining it was that she would be able to get Spike out of bed. The only downside was that he was going to be forced to play the villain once he forbade Spike from leaving the house. That was going to make Spike all the more spiteful when he cooked later tonight.

He made his way towards the door, dragging his hooves every chance he could. Perhaps, if he took long enough, his would be guest would take a hint and leave him be. To his chagrin, the knocks only became more frequent. He quickened his pace, not because he cared for whomever was at the door, but because doing so was the only to cease the infernal tapping.

“What do you want, you blasted equine!?” Tirek shouted as he threw open the door. He blinked twice to make sure that his eyes were not betraying him. Whilst not his mother’s handmaiden, there stood a pony. Not just one pony, but rather three . At least, they looked like ponies. Tirek kept a stolid expression as he eyed each mare. All three wore bright red pendants around their necks, along with bright colored dresses. If he was younger, and foolish, then he might have found their looks tolerable.

One mare had poufy orange hair, yellow fur, and dark pink eyes that whispered of sinful desires. On her back was a brown saddle bag, something that must have been through wars by the look of it. The second mare was light violate, had pigtails, piercing purple eyes and seemed generally disinterested in him, while the third seemed easily distracted, and a bit ditzy. Weather her demeanor was a façade or not was up for debate, but Tirek knew that her innocence would have men of all species hovering over her, waiting for any command to follow. Tirek made a mental note to keep Spike away from the last one.

“Lord Tirek, I presume?” The yellow mare asked, leaning forward. There was an eagerness in her eyes, something that put Tirek off.

“Tis I,” he answered in a huff. “What business do you have with me? If you’re students, look for a teacher elsewhere. I have all the pupils I need.”

“Oh, we do not mean to take up your time with studies,” She said with a laugh. The mare flashed him a curt smile, but there was something darker lingering behind it. Could it just be her excitement? Perhaps. People often acted strangely in his presence. Of course, there were none that were as powerful as he, however ordinary Tirek might seem.

“My name Adagio Dazzle,” she said, bowing her head. “And these are my sisters, Aria Blaze and Sonata Dusk. We’re searching for rare ingredients for a high paying client, and heard a rumor that a dragon lived here-”

Tirek lifted his hand to silence the mare. “What do you want from him?”

“Oh, nothing that won’t grow back. Just some ingredients. You probably heard about the dragon lands, they’re likely to kill us on sight. Might we please talk with your dragon?”

Tirek’s eyes narrowed. “If it is so important to you, you may talk with my nephew.”

“Your nephew? Oh, I deeply apologize! The way that our employer explained it to us, we were led to believe he was a pet. It won’t happen again, I promise.  Might we come in and talk with your nephew?”

“You may,” Tirek motioned for the mares to follow him into the house. “The boy is upstairs in his room,” he explained as he led them through his home. “Before I fetch him, allow me to set some ground rules. There will be no humming, singing, or music from any you.” He waved them off, as the two lesser mares looked at each other, worried. “Do not try to bribe me to force him to give you what you want; it is his choice to give you his scales and spines. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.” A small smile grew as Adagio kept pace with the aging centaur. “Might I ask why no singing? It seems to be an odd rule.”

“Music annoys me, the boy will attest to that. I know Equines, the cuter of you have some blasted need to break into song for whatever reason you can think of. I’d blame the blue one, she seems the type to hum to herself. Stay in there,” he said, motioning towards the den, “I’ll send him down shortly, and do not try to cheat the boy, I’ll be watching to make sure any transactions go smoothly.”

“Understood, Master Tirek. And he’s deciding what to sell us, not you, correct?”

“Again, it’s his choice to give you his scales and spines. ”

“Just making sure, my sister’s and I would hate to take a misstep. If you don’t mind my asking, where is your nephew?”

“If any god is looking out for him, he’s likely up in his room, with a book opened and a quill in his claw.”





The sun’s rays finally landed on Spike, stirring the young dragon from his slumber. “Five more minutes,” he moaned, rolling to his side, and putting a pillow over his head. He desperately wished to return to his dream world. There, he wasn’t just Spike, the dragon, he was Spike the Brave, the glorious knight of Arcania. He shifted in bed for a few moments before finally surrendering to the sun. Letting out a loud yawn as he stretched his limbs, he slowly stumbled his way to his desk and took a seat.

“Good morning,” the young dragon mumbled as he looked towards the picture of his mother. His eyes almost closed as he sat back in his chair. “I know. I wish I could sleep like that all the time.” Spike paused. “Yeah, why not ask Uncle Tirek, like he’d agree to that. He never lets me sleep in-” Spike’s eyes snapped open as he quickly turned to his clock. It was almost 10. He’d overslept. He’d overslept at his uncle's. He’d overslept the day after his uncle wanted him to wake up early. He’d overslept the day after he turned in terrible work. His uncle was going to kill him.

“I gotta go, I love you!” Spike said, scrambling out of his seat. He quickly threw off his nightshirt and opened the top most draw of his borough. Grabbing a plain white shirt, he rushed to get his boots. “I’m dead,” he said to himself as he struggled to get dressed. His bed was unmade, he had yet to wash, and he had not made breakfast. It would be a miracle if his uncle didn’t finally hit him. “I don’t have my cloak on, it’s almost ten, and I am dead!”

Spike grabbed an aqua green robe from the many that hung in his closet and rushed to the door. Perhaps if he went down, cooked the choicest cuts of steaks they had in the pantry to perfection, and read three chapters of his magic textbook while doing it, then maybe his uncle would only ground him for a few weeks. Spike threw his door, and dashed forward, only to smack into two sturdy, yet sickly thin legs. Spike looked up to meet his uncle’s gaze, the old centaur waiting for him with his arms crossed and a brow raised.

Spike began to stammer before finally being able to say, “G-good morning, Uncle Tirek.” He swallowed a forming lump in his throat as his uncle’s eyes narrowed. “I-I-I’m sorry for not getting up earlier and cooking, I didn’t mean to oversleep I just-” Spike bit his lower lip the moment Tirek lifted up his hand.

“I don’t wish to hear your empty apologies,” Tirek snorted. “At least you managed to wake up on your own.” He took several steps forward, passing Spike and making his way over to his nephews desk. “I heard chattering. Talking to your ‘mother’ again?” Tirek asked, looking down at the framed picture that rested on Spike’s desk.

“No, I-I was just talking to myself! It’s a habit that I need to break, it’s just hard. You know me uncle, I struggle.”

“I see. So you screamed ‘I love you’ to yourself.”

Spike turned red as he tried to think of some excuse to give. “Well, Uncle, you see I-I-” His face fell as he sighed in defeat, “I said it to mom-the picture of mom, Uncle.”

Tirek shook his head as he continued to look at the picture. “Lying to your uncle. I wonder, if your mother was here, what would she say?”

“She’d be cross with me, Uncle,” Spike said. His mother was always cross with him when he lied. Even the smallest, whitest lie resulted in his desert privileges being taken away and earning him an extra serving of vegetables with his supper.

“Break this habit, Spike, before I make you break it,” Tirek said, never looking away from the picture. The centaur reached his claw out and touched the picture, causing Spike the tense for just a moment. Spike knew that it had to be a threat. All it would take was one small spell and his uncle could reduce the picture to ash in moments. Then again, if he wanted to ruin the picture, his claws would more than suffice.

“Remember, Spike, your mother is coming back,” Tirek said, ripping Spike way from his thoughts. “In the meantime, we have guests downstairs that wish to speak with you. Converse with them and get them out of my home.” Tirek turned to face his nephew, keeping his expression emotionless.

“Are they alchemists?” Spike asked. Potion Makers, better known as Alchemists, were common company for him and his uncle to have. Rumors had it that enough dragon scales, mixed with a multitude of other ingredients could enhance a person’s strength for an hour or two, but in truth the effects lasted but a few minutes. However, this was unknown to most novices, and as such, it was a common prank to send apprentices out to collect such a rare and ‘useful’ ingredient.

“No, they simply work for one. If there’s one positive that we can take away from this setback, it’s that you’re likely to make some coin from this.”

“Of course,” Spike said with a sigh. His uncle never did like guests. Any mail couriers not under his father’s employ were normally sent to his grandmother’s house. Anyone that was with the church were instructed to leave immediately, and those peddling things that his uncle deemed useless, which was most things, were quite literally thrown off of their property. The only exception to the rules were alchemists and those hired by them. There was only one reason that they were even allowed near the house, and that was because they usually offered him and his uncle coin of some sort.

“Do not give me that look,” Tirek sneered. “If horrid, slithering creatures wish to waste our time, the least they could do is pay for it. Nothing in life is free, Nephew. I think it best you learn that now.”

“Right.” Because it’s so wrong to be kind to pranked alchemists.  Spike climbed down the stairs and walked towards the living room. He peeked from behind the corner of the wall to catch a glimpse of  his guests, only to quickly shot back behind the wall.

Ponies. It had to be ponies. Worse, they were all cute. Spike could already begin to feel his cheeks start to heat up as his heart sped just a bit. He took a deep breath as he took a single step from behind the wall and made his way towards the mares. The mares turned their heads to him, sending a chill up his spine. Two of the mares smiled brightly at Spike as he came into the room, with one of their eyes lighting up, while the last one seemed woefully disinterested. Still, Spike couldn’t help but notice how their eyes sparkled and shimmered, even in the dimly lit room. Slightly trembling as he came to stand in front of the mares, Spike spoke with a clear and strong voice.

“You must be the guests my uncle told me about,” he said with a small bow of his head. “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. My name is Spike, Spike Solaris. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” A bit too formal than he would usually give, however, his Grandmother, her handmaid, and his mother had always taught him to be respectful to guests, especially if said guests were lovely ladies.

“The pleasure is all ours! My Name is Adagio Dazzle,” The first pony, a mare with a yellow coat with an orange mane said. “These are my sisters, Sonata Dusk-” she motioned to the light blue mare that sat to her right. The mare uncontrollably hopped up and down in her seat, biting her lower lip as her gaze focused on Spike. “-and, Aria Blaze, who should show how happy she is that such a busy individual has kindly taken time out of his day to meet with us.” she elbowed the purple mare to her left andjerked her head towards Spike.

“Hi.” Aria mumbled, glaring at the dragon.

“You’re adorable!” Sonata cried, standing from the couch. She quickly scooped Spike up into the her arms and began to assault him with a myriad of nuzzles. “After seeing that mean guy, I was expecting you to be some angry bitter dragon, but you’re so cute! Do you two see this?” she asked, holding out Spike towards her sisters. “He’s adorable and snuggly! Oh, can we keep him? I wanna keep him and care for him and snuggle him all day!” She began to squeeze him once again, rubbing her cheek against his, forcing a fire to ignite in his face.

Spike tried to fight any thoughts that entered his head, but found himself in a losing battle as he sunk into Sonata’s soft coat. His sinuses were assaulted by the fresh smell of the ocean and palm trees, as he found himself enjoying the warmth of the embrace. Spike couldn’t deny that a small part of him enjoyed every moment of it. Cursed ponies, why must they be so cute and adorable, stealing the wits of young, unsuspecting dragons such as he?

“Sonata, he’s a child, not a pet. Put him down, now,” Adagio gently demanded, giving Sonata’s wings a tug.

“No! You don’t mind that I’m snuggling you right?” She asked Spike.

There came a small squeak from the dragon.

“One squeak, that’s a yes!” Sonata paused mid-nuzzle. “Wait, Spike Solaris?” She held the limp dragon out at arm's length. “I thought your last name was ‘the Dragon’. What gives?”

“Sonata, why on Earth would you think that his last name’s the Dragon?” Aria asked. “That’s like a gargoyle thinking that your last name is ‘the Pony’.”

“Solaris was my mom's last name,” Spike explained, his voice barely emerging from a small squeak. He silently prayed that his blush went unnoticed. Unbeknownst to him, his prayers went unanswered. “My dad and uncle said that’s just how dragons are.”

“Okay!” Sonata chirped as she restarted her nuzzles.

A loud smack echoed throughout the house as Spike was dropped to the floor, waking him up from his comatose state. He heard Sonata whimpering as she rubbed the back of her head.

“Meanie!” She shouted to Adagio, as tears began to well up in her eyes. She huffed and turned away from her sister, crossing her arms and turning her head.

“I do apologize for my sister,” Adagio said, smiling at Spike. Her expression flattened as she shot Sonata a cold glare. “She’s an idiot.”

“I-it’s fine,” Spike murmured. “I’ll be right back.”

Spike stepped out of the room, only to re enter and whisper something to Sonata. Gasping, Sonata’s mood instantly improved. She whispered into Spike’s ear, earning herself a nod before Spike rushed out of the room once again.

“What was that?” asked Adagio, who was too nervous and annoyed to keep up her smile. Things were not progressing as she had wanted them to. She’d would have liked them to be on their way by now, parted with some coin but with the ingredient their mistress so desired.

“You’ll see!” Sonata sang, concerned only with what Spike had whispered to her.

Spike scuttled off to put on the kettle, and fetch some treats from the pantry. Sonata had him asked if he had any cakes and other pastries available, something that he and his uncle had in droves. Being the gracious host that he was, he would supply them to her and her party. While part of him wanted to serve Adagio whatever dull tea he drudged up from the back, Sonata had made it clear that the three of them enjoyed blueberry tea, with plenty of sugar and honey. He wrinkled his nose at the choice. While Spike never liked the beverage, he preferred raspberry tea himself when he could not enjoy a cup of juice, he knew that his uncle had boxes of it. Not for them, his uncle hated blueberry tea, but for Spike’s mother. Why, if she wasn’t enjoying a small amount of wine with her dinner, she could normally be found with a cup of blueberry tea. If it would make his guests feel more welcomed, then he would gladly drink it.

Taking a platter, Spike began to carefully stack several pastries, including seed and bundt cakes, before he grabbed a box of blueberry tea with his tail. The kettle let out a whistle just as he finished stacking the last cake. The young dragon hurried to the stove, and placed the platter of cakes on a nearby counter. He prepared a pot, and put in on a second platter along with five tea cups. Not Tirek’s favorite beverage, but his uncle would just have to make due. Spike carefully picked up both platters and carefully made his way towards the den.

“Where’s the boy?” Tirek’s voice sliced through the air, filling Spike with a feeling of dread.

“Here! I’m here, Uncle Tirek!” Spike called. He pattered into the room, holding his tray of goods. “Sorry, I was just getting some food for everyone. Don’t want to be rude, right?”

Tirek lifted a brow as his eyes scanned the young drake standing tall, holding two platters of food and drink. “I suppose we don’t.” Tirek snaked over to his arm chair and sat down, his eyes never leaving his guests.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Spike placed the platter of treats on the small coffee table. His uncle always seemed to to think the worst of their guests. If they showed him affection, they were trying to manipulate him. If they asked for food, they were free loaders, and if he was missing for only a second, they had probably kidnapped him. When he was six, his uncle once broke a gargoyles arm and knocked a few of his teeth out. What did he do? According to his uncle, the aristocrat dared to call Spike a pet, and wanted Tirek to sell him the young dragon. Spike was then told that gargoyle got off lucky.

Starting with Sonata, Spike gave each of his guests a cup of tea. When Spike came to Tirek with a cup, he became still, not of fear or worry, but of habit. Tirek’s face fell flat as he sniffed the beverage, looking to Spike as if expecting an apology.

“They wanted Blueberry tea, what was I supposed to make?” He said in a low whisper.

Tirek rolled his eyes as he reluctantly accepted the cup. He knew that had their guests looked like stallions, Spike would have made white or raspberry tea, or given them a cup of juice, and he would not have been so generous with their food. Nothing too surprising, the boy was Scorpan’s son after all.

Spike knew was going to receive a harsh scolding later in the day, but he didn’t mind. His guests were comfortable, Sonata was happily eating her fill, and Tirek sat quietly in his chair. Taking a small bundt cake for himself, Spike smiled as he took a seat across from his guests.

“Well, I must admit that this is a... lovely spread-” Adagio moved a treat Spike had given her towards Sonata, who happily ate it in a single bite, “-however, at the risk of sounding rude, may we skip the pleasantries and move onto more important matters? We have a long journey back home.”

There was a desperate look in her eyes as she leaned in towards Spike, something that he was well acquainted with. Although his scales and spines were next to worthless, alchemists and alchemic peddlers were always excited to obtain them. Part of the reason Spike didn’t just tell them the truth was because it tended to ruin their mood.

Giving the mare a nod, Spike began to roll up the sleeve of his cloak. Before he could stand though, Tirek coughed, earning the young dragon’s attention. Tirek gave his nephew a stern look as he rubbed his thumb against his index finger.

“Right,” Spike said to himself. “Before you take anything, I might need some… convincing.” There was a lack of emotion as he spoke. Spike couldn’t help but feel a twinge of shame for what he was doing. Who was he to be asking three mares for money after they had travelled from Equestria just to meet him? He wondered what would his mother say to that? She’d be appalled, and even worried at his behavior. Then again, his uncle did not mind him earning money, so what did she know about anything?

Tilting her head to the side, Adagio’s lips curled upwards. There was a sort of darkness in her smile, but not one brought on by malice, rather one of excitement.

“A businessman, are we? Very well, if you want some compensation, I’d be more than happy to oblige.” Adagio was not a stranger to hanglers, however, she was no stranger to haggling either. Spike, as adorable as he was, was still a boy, and one that seemed to enjoy the company of youthful maidens. Adagio strode towards Spike, before turning sideways. She flashed the dragon a devious smile, before gripping the hem of her dress, slowly lifting it up until the entirety of her hind leg was almost visible. Attached to her thigh was a small bag of gold that hung from a strap.

Spike eyes went wide for a moment before he lifted his gaze towards the ceiling. His blood rushed to his cheeks as he held his breath in an effort to wish away the mare that stood before him. His uncle was not as perturbed, and merely rolled his eyes at the shameless display. Surely, there was no other place to put their money, it had to be hung from one of the mare’s garter. The fact that the mare took her time exposing herself to a young boy was purely coincidence.

“Here you go,” Adagio said, placing the sack of gold in front Spike. She quickly trailed a hoof under his chin before returning to her seat, sending a pleasant chill running up the dragon’s spine.

Probably not even enough to buy food for a week, Tirek thought taking note of the sack’s small size. It wouldn’t matter to Spike how much he’d been given. The lad was redder than any centaur, and didn’t even bother to look at the purse. There could very well be only three coins resting inside and Spike would be more than happy with the arrangement.

“Thank you, that should be more than enough,” Spike said, still looking towards the ceiling.

“That’s wonderful to hear! Well, if you’re ready, then we can get started.” Adagio rummaged around in her bag for a bit, searching for something specific.

Spike cautiously brought his gave back down to the mares, relieved to see that Adagio was decent. “Miss Adagio, we have tweezers if you can’t find yours. You don’t need to rummage around in your bag.”

Adagio paused, before looking towards Tirek and then to Spike. She let out a sigh as she took a seat next to Spike, putting an arm around him. “Spike, I feel that I must clarify something. You see, our employer doesn’t have a need for things such as Spines and Scales, she wishes to use more valuable ingredients.”

“Valuable how?”

“Aria, show him how valuable. It should be in the right bag.”

Aria lifted a large sack of coins in her aura that made both Spike and Tirek go wide eyed.

“Th-that’s uh, that’s very generous.” Spike began to breathe heavily as he fought not to rip the bag open and rummage through its contents.

“Well, considering you assumed that we were taking scales, I thought it might be appropriate to up the payment a bit.”

“And just what is it you want to take, really?” Tirek said, looking at the mares questionably.

“Oh, well, we might need to take just the tiniest bit of his... blood,” Adagio said after a brief pause.

“You want my blood? Why would you need my blood?!” Spike covered the bend of his arm and stood from his seat, quickly moving towards his uncle.

“Nothing nefarious Spike, I assure you. We just need it for-” The snapping of fingers echoed in the air silencing the party and turning their attention towards Tirek.

“That’s enough out of you,” Tirek camly said as he glared at the mares. “There’s nothing left to discuss. I want the three of you out of my home, now.”

“Lord Tirek, please, we have more money if-” Adagio let out a gasp Tirek lifted the trio in his aura.

“Hey, what’s the big idea!?” Aria shouted.

“Wait, uncle, let them explain themselves, maybe this is just a misunderstanding!”

“There’s no misunderstanding, Spike,” Tirek said, never raising his voice past a soft tone. “What we have here are three fools working for a heretic, if they’re even telling the truth.”

“We are! besides, you said that it was his choice to give us what we needed,” Aria argued, pointing to Spike. “Why not let your nephew decide?”

“Yeah, Mr Grumpy! Plus, I still have, like, three cakes to finish!”

“Sonata, no one cares about the snacks!”

“I care!”

Tirek flicked his pointer finger towards himself, bring the three mares in close. “You three grow less and less charming with each passing moment. And I said that ‘It will be his choice to give you his scales and spines’. If you wish to get dragon blood, then I suggest that you try your luck in the dragon lands. I hear they love your kind.” He leaned in and gently whispered, “Apparently, siren flesh falls off the bone once charred.”

There was a bit of worry in their faces as the three of them fell silent.

“Uncle, what did you tell them?” Spike asked, seeing the frightened look.

“Nothing that concerns you, just stating facts.”

Tirek led the mares through the house before tossing them out the front door.

The three mares landed with a thud.

“Excuse me, we had a bag!” Instantly, Adagio’s saddle bag appeared before her. “We also left two bags of bits with you!”

“Indeed you did. My nephew and I thank you for such charitable donations. Now get off my property, before I blast you into oblivion.” Tirek slammed the door shut, leaving the trio alone.

Spike flinched when the door slammed shut. “You just threw them out! You could have hurt them!”

“Those wretches should count themselves lucky if all I did was harm them. They asked for your blood. For all I know they were Witches, worse, Blood Mages,” The way his face twisted made Spike uneasy to ask his next question.

“Well, I get that those are bad, but maybe they just wanted to see what would happen if they mixed dragon blood into a potion. What’s so bad about that?”

“Spike, you should know why you should not take that risk. Just last week I told you to read ‘The Laws of Magic’, and ‘The Taboos of the World’.”

“I skimmed them?”

Tirek shook his head as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “‘Skimmed them’, ‘Wanted to see what would happen’. You sound like an old student of mine. He asked question like that relating to the darker side of magic, and so I threw him out. The fool of a jackal is probably off gallivanting who knows where, probably committing every taboo there is and making new laws just so he may break them. I would forget childlike inquiries, Spike,” His uncle balked as he looked out a window to see the mares off.

“There are two truths you need to concern yourself with when it comes to magic. The first is that a lack of any moral code will drag you down to the gates of Hades. Secondly, Alchemists are the lowest grade of all scholars, and deserve about as much respect as that bird we ate last night. If they’re not off trying to create the next shortcut in a flask, then they’re wasting their potential toying around with their transmutation circles. It’s magic for those who have no talent for magic. Heed my words Spike, waste your time with alchemy, and you’re dead to me.”

“Does that mean I get to live with grandma or dad?”

“I wouldn’t know, nor would I care. You’d be dead to me.”

It wouldn’t be too heartbreaking in Spike's opinion, but it wasn't something Tirek was likely to keep to. His uncle often told him that if he did wrong he’d be dead to the centaur, but normally the taboo would result in a grounding. Spike looked towards the bags of coins that rested on the floor. Were they not giving the bags back to the mares? If not, were they his to keep? Some small part of him hoped so. There was something enticing about the gold. He wanted to count how much there was, feel the coin in his claws, and hold it close to his chest. He wanted it to be his. Then a thought planted itself into his head. It is all mine.

Just as Spike began to near the sacks, a blazing orange glow surrounded the bags, before an orange construct formed and lightly hit Spike atop his head, shocking him back into reality. The bags were lifted up into the air and pulled towards his uncle.

“Do not think you get to squander these earnings!” Tirek shouted. “The last thing I need is you spoiling yourself with frivolous luxuries!” He calmed himself before continuing. “I’m going to the bank to deposit your gold. While I’m gone, go to the library and read Basic Magic Chapter 2. You will review how to levitate other objects. Be ready to cast the spell by tomorrow. When you’re done, re-read Taboos of the World and the Laws of Magic. No skimming this time, I’ll be sure to test you soon. Are we clear?”

“Yes Uncle Tirek,” Spike responded.

“Good.” Tirek left, locking the door behind him.




“I’m never going to get this,” Spike said with a whimper. The young dragon despondently shut the textbook as he laid his head on his desk. Through lidded eyes, Spike looked at his book before an idea popped in his head. What if he already had enough knowledge to use the spell? Could he even be that advanced? This was a foolish question of course; Spike was nowhere near ready to perform a spell. Nevertheless, once the little dragon had an idea pop into his head, it was difficult to persuade him not to pursue it.

Spike stood up and focused on the book. He reached out his claw, closed his eyes, and imagined and invisible hand reaching out and grabbing the book, before bringing it back to him. Nothing happened. Letting out a disappointed sigh, Spike took a seat back at his desk. 

It was just hard, nothing more, nothing less. He knew it was possible for Dragon's to use levitation, his mother had often entertained him using just that. She would sometimes use it to let him him fly outside, earning countless laughs and cries of joys. Other times she would use her spells to make his stuffed toys come alive and move about, telling him stories of a brave dragon knight saving a beautiful gargoyle from the clutches of a Centaur Warlock.

Tirek was often cross when she would trivialize something as sinister as a warlocks and witches, but his mother tended to ignore him. There were the times she would use his uncle to entertain him. While Spike was not one for romance stories, he often enjoyed when his mother would tell him a story of the Grumpy Centaur, who fell in love with a gargoyle, who disliked grumpy centaurs. For some reason, the story often flustered his uncle quite a bit.

While Spike became lost in the stories his mother told him, there came two loud knocks at the front door, earning his attention.

Who could that be? Spike thought to himself. Perhaps it was a mail courier unfortunate enough to be sent from his father? Or was it Adagio and her sisters, come back to demand their money. Spike could only imagine their rage once they found out that his uncle had taken it. There came another set of two knocks. He quickly made his way down to the and peered through the peephole, only to see nothing. A bit odd, the only ones that were unable to bee seen were normally children Spike’s age, and Equine. Perhaps it was Adagio after all.

“Master Tirek?” A familiar voice called, along with another set of knocks. “Master Tirek, are you home? I need to talk with Spike!”

Spike instantly perked up as he quickly opened the door. There on the stoop stood a snow-white unicorn with deep violet hair, and shimmering sapphire eyes. She wore a gorgeous blue dress and ruby necklace, something that Spike had given the mare for her birthday. Spike felt a heat course throughout his body as his heart began to race upon seeing the unicorn in all her splendor.

“Rarity! Hi! Good afternoon!” He said, perhaps too quickly. His voice cracked for a moment, forcing him to clear his throat. “H-how’s your day going?”

“Spike, just the young, handsome drake I wanted to see!” She quickly picked Spike up and gave him a hug. “Everything is fine darling, what about you? I hope that the master has eased up on you a bit.”

“Everything’s great! I was just in the middle of magic studies. Uncle Tirek really wants me to learn as many advanced spells as I can. You know,” he casually leaned against the door, “powerful mage stuff.”

“I understand,” Rarity nodded. “At least he’s doing something right. You know Spike, if you master enough spells, and you might be able to impress a gargoyle.” She nudged him a bit, forcing a blush to appear.

“I don’t know about that. I mean, I don’t think gargoyles are really my type.”

“Oh and what is your type?” Rarity asked, a part of her already knowing the answer.

“I don’t know, a girl with more legs? What about you? Any type of guys are you interested in? Mages, magicians, or anything magically inclined?”

“Me?” Rarity asked, trying to control her smile. “Well, I’ve never been one for mages; I’ve always been more interested in knights if I’m honest. Strong warriors in gleaming armor, a strong physique, honor and valor, oh! The thought can make a girl blush!” Rarity buried her muzzle in her hoof as a grin broke across her face. Spike’s little advances were still the most adorable things she’d ever seen. She always tried to not lead him on, but the young drake often made things difficult with his countless offers of help.

“You know, I’ve also been asking Uncle Tirek for fencing lessons!” Spike lied. “You can’t let the body grow dull, you know?” She took a quick breathe in an attempt to calm himself. “Why don’t you come in for a little bit? I could get us some tea, maybe a cake if you’re interested.”

“I wish I could, Spike, alas, her lady needs me to complete a few tasks by day’s end, and I am a bit behind. Fortunately, I have her most precious cargo standing right in front of me.”

“Right! You needed to talk with me. Anything important? Need someone to escort you anywhere, like a dance, or a gathering, or one of Grandma’s parties?”

“Nothing like that I’m afraid. Lady Haydon is just feeling a bit lonely today, and she was wondering if you would like to come for dinner. I suppose your uncle could come if he wants, but personally I find things to be more peaceful without him.”

Spike’s ears perked. “I’d love to, but Uncle Tirek says I need to be ready to cast a spell by tomorrow. I don’t even want to think about what will happen if I don’t. Do you think it’ll be a night trip?”

“Oh Spike, I’m almost certain that it would be. You know how she gets when any of you visit. Dinner, bed, large breakfast and  little treats throughout the day. Honestly, she spoils you children,” Rarity giggled. “If I were you, I would jump at the chance.”

“I-I don’t know, Rarity.”

“Come now Spike, you act as if Lady Haydon can’t handle that brute. Just leave a note and I assure you, he’ll be taken care of.” She reached out a hoof and gently stroked his cheek. “Besides, I would love it if you could come. It gets a bit lonely with just the two of us.”

His cheeks flushed red as he struggled struggled to string together any form of response. “I-I-I guess I could go. Just let me pack a few things.” Spike quickly closed the door, leaving Rarity to triumphantly smile.

Spike ran up to his room and packed two bags with everything that he would need. He had his textbooks, a few changes of clothes, his notebooks, his other textbooks, the textbooks he was supposed to read anytime he wasn’t studying, and an adventure novel that he would try to sneak amongst the countless textbooks. His Uncle never liked him reading fiction; he found that it led children to live in fantasy worlds when they should be learning skills that might help them in the future.

Closing his bag, Spike went down to join Rarity, who was putting the finishing touches on a letter before pinning it to the door.

“Anything we need to do before going to Grandma’s?” He asked as Rarity quickly lifted up his bags in her magic.

“There is one thing I needed to take care of before coming here, though I must admit, I procrastinated a bit.”

“Does it involve the Butcher Shop?”

“It may involve the Butcher, yes.”

Spike smiled, trying not to snicker at Rarity’s sudden discomfort. He understood completely. When she first started working for his grandmother six years ago, she’d nearly vomited when she saw him eating a juicy steak. Ponies were not meat eaters after all, and a trip to the butcher shop was not one of Rarity’s favorite activities.

“I could help you out if you want,” Spike offered.

“Spike, you are a true gentlecolt.”
> To Grandmother's House We Go
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spike couldn’t help but admire the products in the window of the butcher’s. Skinned rabbits and other small game hung from several hooks, and sitting behind thick glass, rested several cuts of various, prime cuts meats. At the same time, he took notice of Rarity, who stood outside starring dutifully at a tavern across the road. There was never a trip to the butcher’s she took that didn’t involve her standing outside the shop. At her side were three bags, two were his, containing his many, many books, and a few changes of clothes. The last was a bag Rarity had come with. It didn’t contain anything special, just a bit of fabric she needed to finish a dress.

“Order up!” A loud, deep voice bellowed, stealing Spike’s attention away from the products.

A hulking Gargoyle lumbered out of the back room carrying a box. He was a behemoth compared to most other men, possibly due to his access to pounds upon pounds of protein. He had a bushy beard, bushier than most gargoyles at that. He also had strong wings, stronger than most other gargoyles. Spike was a bit envious of wings. In fact, last he saw them, a few of his siblings were already flying. Though he was an unfortunate breed of dragon that lacked wings, he always prayed the gargoyle in him would solve that problem.

The butcher slammed the box down on the counter, ripping Spike from his thoughts of wings and flight. Not surprising as the butcher had a habit of using more force than needed when he was in a good mood. Spike, he and his family being one of his favored customers, always brought a smile to his face.

The young drake opened the box just a bit to see three types of meat: several cuts of filet, a few veal medallions, and finally, three cuts of pork tenderloin, each wrapped carefully in wax paper. Spike’s eyes went wide at the sight of the last few cuts, his stomach rumbling at the thought of his grandmother roasting one of his favorite meals. He licked his lips as he realized just how close he was to reaching his grandmother’s house. No one he knew, not even his mother, could cook has well as his grandmother.

“Like what you’re seeing in there, little guy?” The butcher asked, patting Spike on the head. He received a nod as Spike placed a coin purse on the counter. “Thanks, kid. Tell your grandma I said hi, and-” He looked towards his shop’s window to see a familiar white unicorn, awkwardly shifting towards the left and right, “-tell the pony to either get over herself or get a new job, she scares off customers when she acts like that.”

“She’s a pony, she can’t help it,” Spike said. The moment Spike exited the shop, Rarity darted to his side.

“Spike, I cannot thank you enough for doing this for me,” she said, taking the box from him and suspending it in the air along with the fabrics and bags. “Just thinking about being in that store fills me with dread! I don’t know how you can stand it.”

“My mom used to take me there all the time, I’m used to it. Rarity, do you want me to carry anything?” Spike asked, noticing that Rarity was carrying everything they had brought.

“Oh Spike, don’t worry yourself. Besides, if I carry everything in my magic that means that neither of us have to carry the box filled with slimy, bloody meat.” Rarity gagged a bit, quickly covering her mouth with her leg. “Darling, how about we hurry along? I need to get to my fainting couch.”





Spike couldn’t help but feel like he was taking advantage of Rarity. To help hurry the two along, and to make sure Spike wasn’t lost in a crowd, Rarity resorted to carrying the young drake on her back. Spike was not as happy as he could have been. At risk of sounding like his uncle, he was able to walk, and therefore should walk, just as he was able to carry a bag or two.

“Rarity, can I at least carry the fabric?” He asked, letting out an annoyed sigh.

“No, that’s something that I need for a dress. I can’t risk you sneezing and setting it on fire like the last time.”

“Come on, that was seven years ago and a total fluke! I can’t even breathe fire now!” 

“The answer is still no, Spike.”

“Fine. Who are you making the dress for anyway? I thought Grandma only wore the same thing over and over.”

“Oh, darling, that’s a surprise, and knowing you, you’d flap your lips off like a teenage filly. Not to worry though, like all my creations, it will be absolutely fabulous! And your grandmother wears different clothes, they just happen to look similar.”

As annoyed as he was, Spike allowed himself a slight chuckle, though he kept it quiet as not to alert the unicorn. There was only one way that Rarity ever described anything she made, and that word was fabulous. Just last year, for their respective birthdays, both he and his uncle had received a ‘fabulous robe’, though it seemed that Spike’s was made with better materials than Tirek’s was.

Uncle Tirek. The thought of his uncle tore through his mind when it began to dawn on him that he was being deliberately disobedient. What would the old centaur do when he found out Spike had left home? What would be his punishment once Tirek took him from his Grandmothers? Then again, Spike was assuming that he would stay at his Grandmother’s tonight. There was a chance that Tirek might forgo his grandmother’s pleas and drag Spike home. 

As if Grandma hasn’t calmed him down before, another voice said, quelling his growing worry. Spike took a deep breath as his grandmother’s mansion came into view. What [I ]did he have to be worried about? His grandmother was about the only person his uncle obeyed, partly because he had a small bit of respect for his parents.

As the mansion, named Highferia Hall came into view, Spike wasted no time jumping down from Rarity’s back and rushing to the front porch. The dragon gave the door no more than two knocks and waited patiently.

The door opened only a crack, allowing a glowing yellow eye to peer at the outside. It looked at Rarity, and then to Spike, who seemed anxious to enter. The door suddenly flew open as Spike was scooped up in the arms of his grandmother. Haydon was a thin gargoyle, but not so much that she was unhealthy like Tirek was. She had lively features, graceful looking wings, and long, lustrous brown hair that came down to her waist. Her hair had yet to turn grey despite her being a little over 90. This was not surprising as most Centaurs and Gargoyles had life spans that could make an average person jealous, especially the extinct humans, who had 100 years to live at best. She wore a thin white dress, two long silver bracers, and two long earrings. She hovered a few inches in the air as she tended to float everywhere she went. She was gentle and spoke to everyone, even the rudest of creatures, as if they were her own flesh and blood.

“My sweet bambino!” Haydon said before showering Spike with countless kisses. Hugging him tightly, she let out a gasp before holding him out at arm’s length. “Spike, you’ve gotten so thin! What has your uncle been giving you?” She let out a disappointed sigh as she pulled Spike back into her embrace. “It’s just like that bull to starve everyone in that house of his. This is why I think you should live with me. I’m going to have to give Tirek a piece of my mind once he gets here. Poor baby. How about we go inside and I cook you a nice lunch and dinner, does that sound good? That sounds good.” She said, answering for her grandson.

“Grandma, please don’t call me a baby, Rarity is watching,” Spike mumbled his face turning red, as his face was forced into his grandmother’s dress.

“Spike, Rarity thinks this is sweet, right Rarity?” 

Rarity put a hoof to her mouth to hide her smile. “Of course, ma’am, and I’m sure Spike just loves the attention.” Rarity did truly find it sweet, however embarrassing that Spike might think it.

“Thank you, Rarity,” Haydon said with a smile. “You shouldn’t be so self-conscious, Spike. A little love and care never hurt anyone. Come now, why don’t you get situated while I cook?”

Spike let out countless murmurs as he hung limp in his grandmother’s embrace. “That sound’s good, Grandma. Can you put me down though? I’m not a kid, I can walk.”

“Oh, I know you can walk, I’m just not letting you walk,” She said, pressing his nose as lovingly as she could. Haydon turned and carried Spike into the house, followed by Rarity, who giggled to herself. “Before I forget, where is your uncle?”

“He went to the bank. Rarity left a note for him.”





Tirek rushed towards his house, eager to see how Spike was fairing in his studies. The teller at his usual bank, a shifty looking centaur, took far too long counting the money he brought in. Spike was going to lose a coin or two, no doubt. The thought only soured Tirek’s mood, more than it had already been. However, seeing Spike levitating a book would cheer him up some.

Levitation was one of the most useful, and simple, spells anyone could ask for. While most would take at least a week to prep, he was certain that Spike could master levitation in a day with his tutelage. If the boy re-read ‘The Laws of Magic’ and ‘The Taboos of the World’, then perhaps Tirek would allow Spike a second snack after dinner. Tirek paused and quickly dismissed the thought. He had let Spike sleep in this morning, and he was not about to spoil the boy rotten.

Tirek came to a dead stop when he noticed a note pinned to his door. The paper bore his name, and much to his dismay, it was written in the finest calligraphy he’d ever seen. It was instantly recognizable as the handwriting of one Rarity Belle, his mother’s handmaiden and the object of his nephew’s affection.

She was here, he thought to himself, his blood coming to a sudden boil. If that wretch was here than that would mean that Spike-

Tirek shook the thoughts from his head. Whether it was cunning or coincidence that the unicorn had arrived while he was out didn’t matter now. What mattered was Spike. He knew that Spike would be obedient. Tirek would open the note, and it would ask him to bring Spike to the mansion for dinner. The answer would be no of course, as Spike was rarely productive while at his grandmothers. 

Then again, Spike is Scorpan’s son, a voice cackled. Such a weakness for the fairer sex, and you just left him alone, almost begging him to disobey you. Had this been our fool of a younger brother, I believe you would be calling for our parents to beat the insolence out of him. Perhaps we should follow our own advice?

“As if I’d lower myself to such barbaric practices,” Tirek sneered in a low voice. If there was one thing that the centaur prided himself with, it was never raising his hand against his nephew, even at his most disobedient. Tirek read the letter that the blight upon his home, also known as Rarity Belle, left for him. Each word sent a wave of fire coursing through his veins. “That doting, smothering old woman!”





Spike sat in his room, which his grandmother kept just for him, unloading his textbooks. True to her word, she made him an entire platter of sandwiches. Each one was filled with perfectly sliced smoke pork, topped with dragon peppers, some of the spiciest peppers in the world. Spike loved the kick they added to some of his meals, though his family were unable to handle such a spice. They were a deep green and normally had to be sliced thinly as not to overpower the pallet. Another layer held the crispiest lettuce there’s ever bitten into, with an array of condiments. His grandmother had made her special lemon mayonnaise with a blend of spicy and Dijon mustard, a mustard recipe that she’d learned in her travels to Equestria. Finally, there were the red onions, a mildly sweet vegetable that helped balance the spiciness of the peppers. All this, kept between two slices of the freshest white bread his grandmother could offer. She even him a small cup of juice, something his uncle never wanted him to drink. 

Spike didn’t even realize how hungry he was until his grandmother fed him; much like his mother, Haydon tended to know when Spike was hungry, sometimes before even he knew. He ate his fill, leaving only a few crumbs and a small puddle in his cup that even a flea would have trouble getting at.

Satisfied, he could focus on his studies. His uncle was going to be furious with him, there was no doubt, and the only thing that seemed to please him, other than perfection, was at least some semblance of obedience. 

“Law’s of Magic?” Spike asked himself in a soft tone, hefting the large tomb. “No, Taboos of the World.” Taboos of the World, written by a someone named Azure Flame, was certainly the better choice. It was important that he understood his uncle’s anger with the three mares from earlier. What could dragon’s blood be used for, and why was it so important to covet? Surely, just a bit of it at the very least, was just like mana, the engine for magic.

As Spike turned to the first page a light tapping echoed through the mansion.

“Spike,” Rarity’s voice called from down the hall, where she was hard at work sewing a dress together. “Could you get that for me? I’m on a bit of a time crunch with this dress.”

Nothing else needed to be said to have Spike rush to the door. Though Rarity was a handmaiden, and it was her job to answer the door and complete other menial tasks, Spike would never hesitate to assist when asked. His uncle mocked him for this, though Spike knew that someday his kindness would be rewarded, hopefully in the form of an “I do”.

As Spike neared the foyer, there came another three sets of tapping. Could it be his uncle? No, his uncle was a wild beast when he was angry. The tapping was much to gentle, and even had an air of care around it. Then there was the fact that Rarity had asked him to get the door. Rarity would never jeopardize him like that, she was much too kind and caring. Spike opened the door and greeted the guest, remembering his manners and offering him to come in. At least he would have, had he not lost his voice upon seeing his guest.

It was a very old centaur tapping on the door, dressed in timeworn robes and carrying a wooden staff. He was covered nearly head to hoof, save for his face that poked out from his grey hood and cloak that covered the forefront of his body. Around his head was a circlet that scarcely shone in the light of day, and he had a familiar trimmed and brushed beard that put his uncle’s to shame. Spike’s eyes turned to saucers as the familiar face looked down at him, emotionless.

“Master Sendak,” Spike finally said in a whisper.

The centaur looked at him with a raised brow. 

“Master?” He said softly, as if to ponder the statement. He began to stroke his long white beard that almost reached the bottom of his neck as his eyes glistened for but a moment. “Still following the rules your mother taught you, I see. Good on you, don’t want to disappoint such a lovely dragoness. However, please regard such rules moot when I’m concerned. Such a blasted little title if I’m to be honest. It makes me feel quite old.” He drew his hood back and ran a manicured claw through his thick white hair. “Besides, if anyone should be referring to anyone as master, it certainly isn’t you to I.”

“Right, sorry, Mas-Sendak,” Spike said, quickly catching himself before he repeated his mistake. Sendak had been close to Spike and his family for as long as the dragon could remember. In fact, had it not been for Sendak, there was a likely chance that his mother would have never met his father or his father’s family. As such, when she was still around, his mother always urged him to be as polite as he could.

“No need to apologize. Remember, my young drake, I only let two people call me Master, both are centaurs, and both get on my nerves a bit by doing so. For one such as yourself, Sendak will do just fine; We’ve certainly known each other long enough.”

“Of course. Would you like to come in for a moment?” Spike asked, moving to the side.

“No, I’m simply delivering a small package, several small packages actually,” The centaur said, tapping his finger against his staff. “But seeing you here, I might need to pay your uncle a visit later, among a few other things. First things first.” Sendak tapped the butt of his staff against the ground once, igniting the head in a bright light before muttering something under his breath. “That should do it.” He looked quite pleased with himself and began to stroke his beard once more, this time because of a growing feeling of pride. Lifting his staff a few inches, he struck the ground again, this time conjuring a circle of light, in-between him and Spike.

A bright flash blinded Spike for a few moments. When he could see again, there was a tiny gargoyle about three-fourths his height kneeling on the ground. She wore a dress that was as blue as the sky and an ocean blue ribbon tied on the tip of her tail. She had braided light brown hair, something that was not rare to see in young girls and held a stuffed dragon close to her chest.

“Oh, come on,” Spike muttered to himself as he locked eyes with the little girl. Part of him wanted to turn heel and stump up to his room but knew that doing so would only earn him ire from his grandmother. Spike could only watch as the little gargoyle’s eyes lit up with wonder before gasping loudly. She stood up and dropped her doll down on the ground before rushing forward and pouncing on the dragon.

“Spike!” She cried as she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, trapping the drake in a bone-crushing hug. Spike fell to his bottom as the gargoyle began to assault him with countless kisses to his cheek, annoying him as much as his grandmother had.

“Selina, cut that out!” Spike demanded, trying to pry the gargoyle off him. 

“No!” She said with a grin, though most normal people would find it to be more heartwarming than malefic. After all, what evil was there in a girl wanting to kiss her older brother whom she had not seen in almost a year? She resumed her pecks, annoying Spike as his cheeks turned a very light pink.

Selina Arcanous was a seven-year-old gargoyle, the youngest of all of Spike’s siblings, and Scorpan’s favorite. Not to say that Spike hated the poor girl for it, Selina was his favorite sibling after all. She, like all of Spike’s siblings, did not live with Tirek. Instead, they lived with Scorpan and his wife. Spike personally loved having his sister around, for reasons that will be explained later. The only issue was that she would inevitably distract him from his work, wanting to play games or hear stories. Rarely anyone could say no to Selina; her soft, wide eyes and chipper smile made sure of that. She was a bit of a spoiled child, but not rottenly so.

“At the request of your grandmother, Selina Arcanous and her luggage.” Sendak tapped the butt of his staff on the ground, conjuring three large trunks to his side, much larger than anyone would ever need for a weekend trip. “She told me she only packed the essentials, and the rest of your sisters agreed. I would get the unicorn to help you if you can, otherwise, you’ll be carrying the largest two.”

“Did she happen to bring a pry bar?” Spike asked, as Selina continued to squeeze his throat.

“I’m afraid she left that in her room,” Sendak said with a soft chuckle. There came a slight chill in the air as the tip of Sendak’s staff began to glow for a moment. “Blasted centaur. I’m afraid that this visit of mine will have to be cut short. I’ll leave you two to your devices. Farewell, Spike. Farewell, little one.”

Selina released Spike and quickly ran to embrace Sendak’s leg. 

“Thank you for bringing me, Mister Sendak,” the little gargoyle chirped.

“No thanks are necessary, my little princess.” Sendak gave Selina a loving pat on her head. As he did, a small, condensed orb of mana appeared between his horns, right in the center of his forehead, as he brought over the doll that Selina had dropped. He gave it a quick shake, ridding it of any dirt. “Here, best not forget your toy on the ground. I’ll be back in two days for you, do make sure to give Spike room if he asks for it, The lad is likely going to be unjustly reprimanded. Your uncle tends overreact at times.”

Spike watched as his sister’s cheeks inflated, her mood souring as she clenched her toy. She grumbled, “No one told me he was going to be here.”

“A small rule I suggest you remember,” Sendak said as he turned to leave, his staff glowing once again. “Tirek will never be too far from your brother.” Sendak tapped his staff on the ground and vanished. 

Selina let her cheeks inflate more, which Spike didn’t think possible.

“You okay?” He asked, coming to his sister’s side. 

“I guess. Is Uncle Tirek really coming?”

“Yeah, once he realizes that I’m gone. The only time I’m actually allowed to be here is when he has to go out of town for dad.”

“But he’s so mean! He glares at me, and mumbles under his breath, and tells me to stop reading those stories I really like.”

“Selina, he does that to everyone. Be thankful you don’t have to live with him.”

“I still don’t get why you have to.” It always puzzled Selina why Spike didn’t live with the rest of their family and made her quite irritable when her parents refused to let Spike stay with them for even one night. Their home was certainly large enough to accommodate the dragon, and it wasn’t as if he couldn’t help around in the house. Selina knew Spike could cook, and possibly replace their current chef if he wanted to. Yet her mother always got angry with her for even mentioning the drake’s name. Their Father would sigh, explaining to her in very little detail why such an option was unfathomable. Even Sendak rarely entertained the idea of letting Spike spend a night at Scorpan’s. “Can we play when we get inside?” She asked, wanting to get a game or two in before they were yelled at by their uncle for having fun.

“No, I need to study.”

“But you’re at Grandma’s! Not even Elric studies at Grandma’s! And he studies all the time!”

“I don’t have that luxury, I live with Uncle Tirek. You want me to stay for tonight, right?” Selina nodded her head. “Okay, then I need to study, just to make him happy. I promise, I’ll play with you later.”

“Okay,” she said with a pout. “Can I at least watch you study?”

“Sure.” Spike knew that Selina would eventually get tired of watching him and seek out either their grandmother or Rarity. He could only hope that Tirek was taking as much time as he as possible coming to the house.





Tirek had snapped his fingers as a large orb burned bright above his head. There was not going to be any quarter with his mother or her handmaiden, he was going to teleport to the house and drag Spike home if he had to. He would even leave a note as snide as Rarity’s explaining where the dragon was to be, and reminding the two who had dominion over Spike. Unfortunately, his spell was not working. Three times he had tried, and each of those times it felt as if something had blocked him from reaching his destination, Highferia Hall. 

“I’m afraid your magic won’t be sufficient in this case,” A low, powerful, yet kind voice said. “Your mother had me put a spell on her property. No doubt she’ll wish for you to dispel it once you get there and have a good dinner for a reward. She told me she’s making fillet tonight. I admit that I am jealous of you and your nephew.” 

It was a very proper sounding voice, one that dripped with poise. Normally, Tirek would mock its owner for aiding his nephew and family. However, the voice belonged to the only person that had earned Tirek’s respect, and thus he was unable to make even the smallest insult. Tirek turned to his visitor, taking a deep breath as he did.

“Master Sendak,” he said with a bow.

“An odd greeting,” Sendak said tilting his head side to side. “Do you mean that I am Master Sendak, and you think me ignorant of my own name? Perhaps you are trying to great me but, like an apprentice mage, lose your words the very moment I show my face. Honestly Tirek, a simple good morning would suffice, or a good day judging by the hour.”

“Of course,” Tirek muttered. “I was merely trying to be respectful, Master. Good day, Master Sendak.” Tirek once more bowed only to feel a claw put itself on his shoulder.

“Please, cease with the formalities, Tirek. You’re angry, anxious; anyone can tell just by looking at you. Why not let us go inside and sit? My legs could use a rest. I brought two pipes if you’d like one, and some equestrian leaf.” From his sleeve, the centaur showed his younger counterpart two pipes. One was still new, while the other was worn from constant use. “Perhaps we can calm our nerves and talk.” 

“I don’t smoke, Master, but thank you for the offer,” Tirek said, making sure to keep his manners in mind.

“Yes, yes. I only offer because you seem a bit tense, and tense is the last thing a centaur like you should be.” Putting away the first pipe, Sendak kept out his. He wasn’t about to let his former student keep him from enjoying himself, especially when their conversation was likely to turn unpleasant. “When you’re tense, you tend to make everyone as miserable as you, and considering who you are, you make it your job to be miserable.”

“Of course I’m miserable!” Tirek snapped. “I try my best to raise my brother’s whelp, and my mother, she-she kidnaps him! She sits in that mansion of hers, taking advantage of your loyalty and using some mare to manipulate Spike into doing her bidding.”

Sendak shrugged his shoulders as he prepared his pipe, cleaning out of any lingering ash, before packing it with his leaf. Equestrians grew sweet smoking leaf, something that he enjoyed occasionally, usually when thinking of a new spell or a lesson for his eager student. Normally, there was an unusual pleasant taste to it depending on where it came from. It either had a hint apple or cherry, or if he was lucky to find a bag, honey. If the leaf from Equestria was not available to him, he would tend to purchase a small amount of Everfree leaf. While sweet, it left a horrid aftertaste of moss and mud, something that no centaur liked. Arcanian leaf was much too bitter for him, though many gargoyles seemed to enjoy it. Sendak would rather destroy his pipe than smoke such a horrid product. 

“Tirek, you shouldn’t be so cynical about a small crush, or love for that matter. I’m sure Ms. Belle does her best not to lead him on. And I shan’t have you decry love. I might remind you that I had a wife, gods bless her soul, and she made me a better man, like every wife does for their husband. Besides, I remember when I served your father, there was a young centaur who fell for a maid thrice his age. He came to me for advice on courting the girl and extra lessons in magic to impress her. Do you think it served him better to forget such a feeling?”

“Of course. I was a fool back then,” Tirek grumbled. His master constantly tried to argue with him whenever he made such a blanket statement, fortunately, he was much too clever to fall into such a trap. “I didn’t feel love, just a childish lust. That’s all anyone feels.”

“You, a fool?” Sendak pursed his lips. “Likely. Only a fool could be as emotionally clueless as you and still achieve the title of Sage.” The centaur began to tap the stem of his pipe against his bearded chin, as if trying to remember an important message he was to give. “What about that servant girl that you found-what was the word you used that day-intoxicating? Was that just foolishness as well, perhaps a primordial lust? Were you looking for someone to keep your bed warm?”

“That was-She was-it!” Tirek silenced himself as he ruminated on the girl. He didn’t the foggiest idea how to describe her. Annoying, pleasant, foolish, seductive, gentle, fierce, and intelligent all fit, but none could truly describe her. Just thinking about her was causing his heart to beat irregularly as his palms became sweaty. She was the enigma, the only person able to rob him of his wits and will. Typical that his master to mention her when discussing love.

Tirek still recalled the fire that she ignited in him by dint of being. The desires that she cruelly placed in his heart whenever his gaze met with her smoldering eyes. She was a wild blaze that threatened to consume his younger self’s countless ambitions. He abandoned his feelings for the girl once he reached a certain age, choosing instead to seek out the power he so craved. Yet, some small part of him, possibly lingering youth, wanted nothing more than to feel her in his arms, held close to his chest. Tirek turned away from Sendak, choosing to look at the ground. “She did not feel the same,” He finally said through gritted teeth.

“Probably because you stood idly by while other suiters charmed her. I pity you at times my student.” 

“I don’t need nor want your pity. And no ‘suiter’ charmed her, only a bastard.”

“Of course. What about your most recent venture you told me about when Spike was still in his egg?” Sendak asked, using his staff to light the leaf in his pipe. He took a few puffs on his pipe and waited for Tirek’s response.

“That Witch is more worthless than Scorpan!” Tirek shouted, as his face twisted into something monstrous. “I would appreciate it if you never mention her again.”

“My apologies, Tirek.” Sendak took a few more puffs of his pipe before giving out a sigh, his breath carrying a large plumb of smoke. “I would hurry along if I were you; your mother will probably be preparing supper, and knowing her there’s enough for you, and me if I bothered stopping by. I won’t bother you anymore for now, there’s some business that I must attend to. As happy as I am to see such old friends, I must admit it’s a sad day today, especially for an old fool like me.” 

“Today is nothing.”

“To you it’s nothing, but to me it is a miserable little date that I wish never existed, as I’m sure tomorrow is for Spike, and you if you bothered feeling anything at all.”

Tirek glared at Sendak, though it was not one that was angry towards him. Tirek could never be angry at his old master. However, he was still bitter with his situation, and the earlier meeting with the mares did nothing to improve his mood. “I’m bringing him back home.”

“Is that a fact? I know many things, Tirek. For instance, I know it’s a long, exhausting trek to your mother’s, and I know that she is intent on having you and Spike over for supper. I would just be sure to calm yourself before knocking on the door, you know how she gets. Good day, old friend.” Sendak tapped his staff against the ground and vanished in a flash of light.
> A Family Gathering
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“How dare that wretched woman?” Tirek asked himself as he came to the steps of his mother’s mansion. At least an hour had gone by thanks to his journey, precious time wasted thanks to his Master’s charm on the property. The herd of centaurs and gargoyles flooding the city streets as he walked did nothing to better his mood. “Makes me fetch Spike, she’ll probably have the gall to tell me to dispel the charm on this forsaken mansion. It would have been better to have been born to a humbler family, maybe then I’d be respected.” Tirek knocked on his mother’s door several times, much harder than he should have.

“Mother, come out here now!” He shouted when there was no immediate response. “I do not have time for your games!” 

The door suddenly flew open as Lady Haydon came floating out, her face glowing with a soft light as she laid eyes on her eldest child.

“Tirek, my son!” she gasped. “It’s so good to see you again!”

“Shut your mouth! I want Spike! In case you’ve forgotten, Kindle left him with me, not you! I am his caregiver, I am his teacher, and I hold dominion over him because she entrusted me to raise him! All you’re capable of doing is spoiling the boy!”

Haydon gave her son a gentle smile, before floating upwards and giving him a small kiss on his forehead. 

“Tirek, I love you more than anything,” She said, gently stroking his cheek, “but if you want me to engage with you, you’ll have to try again.” Haydon quickly hovered back into the house and slammed the door in her son’s face. 

With a hardening glare, Tirek slammed his fists against the door twice, sending a small shock through the mansion. The door opened again, and Haydon came floating out, her face glowing with a soft light as she laid eyes on her eldest child.

“Tirek, my son!” she gasped. “It’s so good to see you again!”

“I detest the way you treat me, Mother. Is this what I get for listening to you, respecting you enough to put up with my fool of a younger brother, his detestable wife, and their countless brats, as I keep Spike in this forsaken city? You do nothing but stab me in the back when you send that wretch to abduct him. I will give you five seconds to relinquish the boy, before I tear this house down and drag him from the rubble!”

“Third time’s the charm, my sweet child.”

Haydon once again slammed the door on her eldest child, leaving him to stew in his own anger. With his fists, Tirek struck the door several times, almost losing control of his anger. He thought about blasting down the door, but that would only give his mother something to lord over him the next time this happened. He had to stay in control. The door opened once again, and Haydon came floating out, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw her eldest child.

“Tirek, my son!” she gasped. “It’s so good to see you again!”

“You-!”

Before Tirek could finish, Haydon slammed the door shut. The centaur lost control of his actions as he began to slam his fist and even his head against the door as he shouted countless curses at his mother and her handmaiden. His tantrum lasted for a good five minutes before tapering out and fading with a passing breeze. As his breathing slowly came back under his control, Tirek gave the door three gentle knocks.

The door opened once again, and there, hovering in the air, was Haydon. 

“Tirek, my son!” she gasped. “It’s so good to see you again!”

“It is good to see you as well, Mother.” Tirek took a deep breath through his nose as he fought any urge to deride his mother. “Is Spike here? I must speak with my sweet, little, shamefully defiant nephew!” Tirek took a moment to pause and regain a shred of his composure, not wanting the gargoyle to slam the door on him again. “Kindle would want me to make sure he’s okay.”

“Was that so hard?” Haydon asked, giving her son a loving smile, though, Tirek knew it to be her triumphant smirk. Had it not belonged to his mother, he would have struck it from her face both swiftly and firmly. “Come in, you must be exhausted from the trip. I’m about to start dinner soon, so why don’t you relax?”

Relax? Tirek could rarely say he ever wanted to relax. Relaxing meant sloth, it meant contentment, and rot. Relax meant that Tirek was not bettering himself or growing stronger. “I want Spike.” The tone was strange. Haydon was unable to discern if her son was telling her a fact or demanding that she give him Spike to take home.

“And I want you and Spike to visit more often. Do I get what I want? No. You make me send Rarity out retrieve him from an empty house. Why, if you’re just going to leave a child to fend for himself, I have half a mind not to let you take him back at all. Oh, and Selina arrived not too long ago. Try not to frighten her like you normally do.”

Tirek’s eyes narrowed. “You not only kidnap my nephew, but you bring Scorpan’s most annoying child here as well. You seem to want to make sure Spike never prospers in his studies.”

“Oh hush! If anything, she’s helping Spike,” Haydon said, taking her son by the hand and leading him inside. “Perhaps he’s levitating a few of her toys to entertain her, reading to her from those books you buy him, or telling her the Grumpy Centaur.”

“In case you forgot, Kindle’s story mocked me, or ‘the Grumpy Centaur’ as she so lovingly called my avatar. I would rather none of my nieces and nephews hear it.” 

Instantly, Haydon’s expression became less joyful and more serious. “Right, I forgot that she was the one to tell that story to Spike.” There seemed to be a drop of venom in her voice, but Tirek ignored it. Haydon took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Regardless, the story brought up a few good points. You’re still not married, and your constant scowling isn’t helping matters. And you’re much too thin. Would it kill you to eat just a little more? And that cloak of yours, I thought Rarity gave you a new one for your birthday.”

“I scowl because I must raise Kindle and Scorpan’s son, while I’m pestered and undermined by my mother. And I’m aware of my physical appearance. The Grumpy Centaur was regarded as a malnourished, living corpse whose face was made so monstrous from his constant sneering, not even his own mother could love him.”

“She would describe you like that, that ungrateful-” Haydon caught herself before she could continue any further. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, before the happiness she expressed seeing her son returned. “Maybe she was trying to tell you something. I just need you to bring him by occasionally. Come along, I’m sure you’ll want to make sure Spike isn’t, heaven forbid, relaxing for a moment. Maker knows what that might do to him in the future.”





It was just too perfect a day. Spike didn’t mind good days, but everything that had happened, baring the three ponies from earlier, felt odd. Most notably was the fact that his uncle allowed him to sleep in this morning. The last time he dared sleep in, Tirek yelled at him for an hour before barring him from dessert for the next week. Today, Tirek had only given him a glance. Then, when his uncle left to make a deposit, Rarity came by moments later to take him to his grandmother’s. What did they do then? Run an errand and pick up his favorite foods, fillet and pork loins. If that wasn’t enough, Sendak appeared and delivered his little sister, who just so happened to be invited for a weekend trip. 

Why only Selina?

Normally, where Selina went, a few of Spike’s other siblings had a habit of following, especially if it meant a trip to their Grandmother’s. There was no place as warm and welcoming as Haydon’s, and the near mention of her elicited several pleas to visit. Spike was a bit shocked that there was no sign of Solomon, his younger brother of only a week, and his twin sister Silica, both of whom were gargoyles like their parents. Yet, there on his bed sat only Selina, who was clutching a doll close to her chest whilst Spike studied. She was bored, that much was obvious. Her eyes were heavy and, if Spike was being a good big brother, he would have noticed and done something to either entertain her or make a comfortable place to rest. Unfortunately, Spike had something of a one-track mind when it came to his studies and certain queries.

Was it his birthday and he had merely forgot? No, if that were the case, Sendak would have stayed when he dropped off Selina. Ever since he turned three, Sendak had given Spike a firework display for his birthday as well as a small toy of some kind, and if there was one thing that Sendak never minded doing, it was setting off some fireworks for birthdays. Shameful as it was to admit, if it weren’t for his displays, Spike would have likely thought of Sendak a stranger and nothing more until he matured a bit. However, their meeting is a story for another time.

So many coincidences would normally warrant some form of scrutiny, but Spike was much too busy to ask any proper questions. Taboos of the World lay opened in front of the dragon, turned specifically to the chapter referencing blood magic, a dark art if there ever was one. While it lacked the steps to cast the spells, the book was more than willing to share what the spell did. The memories of the three mares played back in his head, filling him with a pang of dread. What would have happened had his uncle not been there? Likely he would have given them what they wanted had the price been high enough. It was the dragon in him, no doubt.

Whomever this Azure Flame was, he seemed to take joy in describing the spells that blood mages could cast. He was shocked to learn that resurrection of the dead was possible, however doing so would normally kill the caster in the process. While blood magic could accomplish feats that normal magic could not, magic still came at a cost. And, true to its name, blood magic cost blood. Spike also noticed a warning written in the bright red ink. Those that came back to life under the influence of blood magic seldom came back by themselves, there was always something else within them. 

Something else. There was a sudden chill in the air as Spike pondered what that something else was. The drake knew there was a spiritual side of magic, but he tended to avoid thoughts of more malevolent entities. At most, it took a week before the resurrected left a myriad of corpses in their wake, usually drained of blood. The bodies never tended to last long. Normally, they would rot whilst they were still ‘alive’ unless they consumed enough blood to sustain the spell. Not animal blood though, they would have to drink the blood of mortals. According to Azure Flame, the merciful thing to do for them was to jab an iron stake through their heart and burn their corpse to ash.

Then there was something called binding: where someone could bind their fate to another using their blood. A duel edged sword if there ever was one. If the caster died, so did the bound, and if the bound died, so would the caster. There was a plethora of other spells, but each one described was more sickening than the last. 

“Spike, whatcha reading?” Selina asked, hopping off the bad and taking a seat next to her brother. She laid her head on his shoulder, her eyes half lidded. 

Spike quickly shut the book and moved it to the side, hoping not to expose her to such frightening texts. He knew it was the wrong response. His sister was a curious little gargoyle, and anytime Spike tried to hide something from her, it spurned her into action. Already she had been invigorated with an energy she had been missing while Spike studied. She leaned in, as if getting ready to snatch the book away, much to Spike’s dismay.

“It’s a book of rules that mages shouldn’t break,” Spike said trying to make the book seem less important than it was. Then a devious little thought implanted itself in his head. There was a way he could make sure that Selina never dare open the book. It would not be fear that prevented her, Spike was not that cruel of a brother. He would simply mention the one person that his sweet little sister wanted nothing to do with. “Uncle Tirek wanted me to read it.” 

Immediately, Selina’s face scrunched up. Stupid Uncle Tirek, she thought. She should avoid it if it was something her uncle liked. However, there was still desire growing in her chest that drew her to the ragged cover. Her tail began to wag as mischievous thoughts ran through her mind. What secrets did the book hold that made her brother so desperate to hide it?

“What kind of rules?” She asked, reaching out her hand to open the cover.

Spike mentally cursed himself as her bitter face faded and the book once again enchanted her like it was a fairy tale. There was a likely chance that his little sister was maturing a bit. Normally she would say in as sweet a voice as she could, ‘not interested’ before turning her nose like her mother would.

“Rules that separate good mages from bad.” Spike prided himself for coming up with such a cleverly true description. Selina didn’t need to know the exact class of magic he was researching, just a generalization. Surely that sate her growing fancy.

“How are they bad? Are they like witches? Are they in your book?” Selina asked.

“Witches? Why do they matter?” 

“W-well, they kidnap princesses, don’t they?”

“In fairy tales.”

“It can happen in real life! Does it tell you how to tell who’s a witch? How do I know if I meet a witch?”

Spike recalled seeing a section on witches and warlocks in the reference page. The problem was he had not read it himself. There was likely something to frighten the poor girl. Selina tended to scare easily, and when frightened sought a sibling she could spend the night with. Normally either Spike or one of their other brothers, save for the eldest. He knew that he couldn’t say no to her. If it were a toy or a treat, then their grandmother would back up a simple no. However, this was knowledge, something of infinite value. He was likely to be scolded by both his grandmother and uncle once she told on him.

“Okay. How do you know if you meet a witch?” Spike skipped ahead in his book and came to a section on witches and warlocks. There was a bit too much information on the subject as far as he was concerned. According to the book, witches and warlocks were mages that had sold their souls in exchange for power and knowledge. A Faustian bargain if there ever was one. Afterwards, the mage would be branded with a mark, a very sinister mark. The very thing his sister could use to determine if someone was a witch. “You have to find a mark on them. Here, let me-” Spike took a piece of charcoal and a blank parchment and began drawing. “-there!” He showed his sister a finished drawing of a sun. It looked like a curving circle with squiggles dotted along the outermost edges. “If you see something like this, then you’ve met a witch.”

“A sun?” Selina asked, taking the picture.

“A black sun. The designs vary, but they all look like a black sun.” 

According to the book, every witch and warlock had a brand of a black sun somewhere on their body. Why a black sun? Spike couldn’t say, but perhaps it represented what they were as mortals. Vessels of flesh lacking the light they were endowed with at conception. After all, what demonic being would sell their very soul for anything? 

Selina scooted next to her brother, her tail still waging, faster than it was before. “What else is there? Oh, anything on fairies? Oh-Oh humans! Is there anything on humans?” 

Spike paused for a moment. Why either of those creatures would be in a book of forbidden magic was beyond him. Fairies, from the stories he could remember off the top of his head, were a private race that rested deep in forests around the world, usually attacking any trespassers on sight. While violent, they certainly weren’t committing any taboos. Fairies never left past their boarders. Meanwhile, humans were an extinct race which died out a thousand or so years ago, leaving behind only ruins that still fascinated scholars to this day. Perhaps his sister was starting to think that the tome was a compendium of fairy tale lore. No creature was as evil as a witch, as benevolent and enchanting as a fairy, and none could hold a candle to the Human Trickster, the most famous of all human archetypes. “Selina, I don’t think fairies and humans are going to be in here. This is a textbook on magical rules, not fairy tales.”

Selina began to go wide eyed, an indicator that she was about to try and manipulate Spike somehow. “Please, Spike?” she asked. “Can’t you just check?”

What was he to do? Selina began to encroach on his personal space, as a lake of tears seemed to well up in her eyes almost instantly. Spike struggled to give her an excuse not to tell her a story of at least one race she wanted to hear about. Before Spike could answer a powerful force shook the room. The children turned towards the door, as the tears in Selina’s eyes almost instantly disappearing. There came another great slam as the door to the room was nearly kicked off its hinges, shocking both children.

“Uncle Tirek!” they screamed in unison, gawking at the centaur that stood in menacingly the doorway. Almost instantly, Selina was pulled behind Spike as the dragon attempted to protect her from the blazing gaze of their uncle. Unfortunately, a wave of anxiety overtook Spike as the centaur stood tall, while their Grandmother waited behind him with a flat, disappointed look plastered on her face.

“Uncle,” Spike said as Selina grasped the back of his shirt, burying her in his back. “Nice to see you made it. Sorry I didn’t wait for you to come home before leaving with Rarity. She needed help and-”

Tirek’s glare intensified.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask permission! That’s what I meant to say.” Spike let out a soft laugh. He quickly silenced himself and swallowed a large lump that began growing in his throat before continuing his tirade. “It’s just you know, it was Rarity, and-”

His uncle slowly crept forward until he was about a foot away from the children. He looked down picked up the book Spike had been reading. “Hmm, Taboos of the World, good to see you catching up. I suppose this mean you’re prepared to levitate something as simple as a toy? A stuffed dragon perhaps?” Tirek lifted Selina’s toy and brought it over to himself, grabbing it with his claw.

“Levitation? Oh, right! That. Well you see, I… I couldn’t figure it out. I just moved on to reading because I didn’t want to waste more time than I already have.”

“It’s as good of an excuse as any I suppose. I assume you read up on than subject we discussed?” Tirek tossed the doll back onto the bed, as he began to circle Spike.

“Yes, but can we review it later?” Spike said, his eyes guiding Tirek towards his younger sister who was now burying herself in her brother’s back.

“Typical, using the annoy-Ah!” Tirek let out a shrill yelp as his mother grabbed hold of his ear and began to pull upwards. 

“Tirek, calm down now,” Haydon said with a smile. “As you can see, Spike was studying, like you wanted him to. He was being obedient.”

“He’s not in my house-!”

Haydon gave her son’s ear another powerful yank, eliciting a second sharp yelp. “Tirek, he was doing what you wanted, and you’re frightening Selina again. What did I tell you not to do not five minutes ago?”

“She’s acting! Manipulating you into undermining my authority!”

Haydon looked at Selina and Spike who both watched in awe as their grandmother took control of their Uncle, whom even their father feared at times. Selina especially found the situation amusing. The smile that her granddaughter tried to contain seemed contagious, as Haydon was now struggling to keep herself from bursting out into giggles. She gave her son’s ear one last soft tug.

“What was that one for!?”

“That was for talking back! What do you want to say to your niece?”

Tirek glared at Selina, her smile receding as she sunk back behind Spike. “I apologize for not protecting your illusion of a fantasy world where everyone is happy-” Tirek let another yelp loose as Haydon switched to his other ear, giving it a powerful yank. “-I’m sorry for frightening you!”

“That’s better.” Haydon said, releasing her son from her grasp. “Selina, why don’t you play with Rarity for a little while?”

“Okay!” Selina darted off into a random hall, scampering on all fours. A poor habit for any lady to have, though, one that was unlikely to be broken anytime soon.

“Spike, I could use your help prepping dinner, if you don’t mind.”

“And if I say no?” Tirek said with a mumble.

“Spike,” Haydon repeated, sending a glare towards Tirek, “I could use your help prepping dinner, if you don’t mind. I seem to be losing my sense of time recently. I’ve started to overcook everything I put in the oven, and your uncle tells me that you bake your steaks perfectly. You can help your grandmother out, can’t you?” 

You manipulative wretch, Tirek thought to himself.

“Of course I can help!” Spike said. There was nothing he hated more than biting into a rough, dry, and bland steak, something that a piece of well-done fillet always was. His uncle liked his steaks brick red and nearly bleeding. He and the rest of his family preferred medium cooks on their steaks, leaving them a beautiful violet on the inside. Spike paused as he looked towards his uncle and gave him a sheepish smile.

Tirek’s glare intensified for a moment. “Assist her however you can.” There was no woman in Arcania that was as vengeful as his own mother, and she tended to serve him the worst meals imaginable if it meant getting back at him. The part about overcooking food was obviously a threat not towards the children, but one made towards him. He could only imagine how disgustingly grey his steak would come out.

“Are you sure, Uncle?”

“Why don’t you ask the grand matriarch of the family?” He suggested dryly.

“Thank you Tirek! Finally, recognition of my authority.” Haydon said with a wide grin. “Come along now, Spike, you and I have much to do.”





Spike didn’t realize how much time had passed while he sat studying. It was almost six in the afternoon. Selina, as it turned out, had left his room several times as he studied, returning upon realizing that there was no one else to play with. According to his Grandmother, Rarity had made strides in her work and was free to play with Selina while they cooked. Knowing them, Rarity was likely teaching his sister how to apply makeup. He personally thought Selina to be a bit young for cosmetics, but his grandmother, Rarity, and Selina’s mother thought it fine.

His grandmother led him through the corridors of the mansion until they came to the kitchen. Being in the room again after so long flooded Spike with countless memories when he was a young child. Before she left, his mother often cooked for the family. His grandmother also explained it to him as if it was her job. “Your mother likes to work for her keep,” She had explained in a gentle tone. “I would just let her do what she wants. I’m sure that when we all sit down, she’ll be much less stressed than before.” 

That never stopped Spike from doing small things to assist his mother. And just like that, there was a sudden tightness in his chest. As his Grandmother gathered the ingredients that she’d need cook, Spike seemed to freeze as his thoughts once again fell on his mother. Slowly, the regret from the previous night were drudged up the depths of his heart. Perhaps he’d been studying too hard and merely forgot. It happened all too often. He could hardly remember what day it was, let alone what his mother looked like. He still had trouble remembering the color of her eyes, and even her shade of pink. A loud thump earned his attention, as his grandmother placed a large sack of vegetables down on a small table.

“Spike, I just need you to peel the potatoes and then you can relax for a bit, how does that sound?”

“Sound’s good,” Spike said as he took a seat, his thoughts still lingering on his mother.

“Spike, is something the matter? You don’t have to help if you don’t want to, you were just cooped up in your room all day and-”

“I-it’s not that. I’m just tired.” It was a lie, and his grandmother knew it. Haydon had a habit of seeing through is lies with relative ease.

The gargoyle knelt at her grandson’s side. She put an arm around him and brought his head in so that it rested on her shoulder and in the crook of her neck. “I won’t make you tell me, but you know I’m here for you, right?”

“I know.” He nestled into his grandmother’s embrace. “Later tonight, can we bring up some of the pictures of Mom?” Spike asked. Spike felt his Grandmother’s embrace tighten, though he wasn’t sure why. She released him a moment later, allowing him to see her face. She wore a flat, emotionless expression, as if she was deciding something meaningless. He could feel the shift in the air as his Grandmother stood up and began to prepare the meat.

“The pictures of your mother?” She paused for a moment. She picked up a large knife, and slammed it down on a large cut of beef. She did this twice more, as sweet, little Selina liked her portions smaller than most, with each thawk growing in intensity. “I… I suppose that I could bring them out of storage if you want. Might I ask why?”

“I can’t remember what she looked like.” There was a small crack in his voice as he gripped at his knees. His body shook as small, voices in the back of his head asked him how he could forget his mother.

There was a sudden pain in her chest, alerting the gargoyle that Spike needed her. Haydon let out a sigh before moving herself in front of Spike. “I’ll… I’ll have Rarity bring them out of storage later tonight. Any ones that you have in mind? I have a few of her and you when you were a little baby, and, oh! One of my favorites were of her and you when you were just a perfect little egg! We hovered over you for weeks!” Her smiled had returned quickly as she talked about Spike when he was an infant. “Sometimes I wish I could go back to those days and have you all to myself.”

“Do you have one that’s of just her?” Spike already knew the answer to the question, but maybe his Grandmother had found something in the months he’d been away. A foolish thought to be sure, but one that he held onto. It was strange though, whenever his grandmother talked about his mother, she always managed to change the topic so it was about him, Tirek, or sometimes Sendak.

“Just-just your mother?” Haydon’s smile faltered a bit. She struggled to keep her tone high and her smile from falling any further, something that almost never happened. “No. I don’t. Not anymore at least. I’m sorry, Spike.”

“It’s fine. Do we have any that are in color? Paintings?” Paintings were terribly expensive, though his grandmother usually had a bi-yearly family portrait commissioned. Surely, she would have at least a few.

“I think I might have one, but it’s bit singed though. You had the sniffles that day and burnt a hole through her torso. Everything else is okay, though! And we do have that one portrait when you were four, but you were so fussy that day, you look miserable, poor baby. Oh I think I have my favorite in the attic! It’s of you when you were just a little hatchling, in your baptismal robes. You were the sweetest little thing! Oh, why do all my little babies need to grow up? That might take time bringing up though.” 

“That’s okay! We can look after dinner, right?”

Standing, Haydon hovered over to the counter, where several cuts of filets sat. “Of course, after dinner.”

That promise brought just the smallest smile to his face. This time, he would be sure not to forget what she looked like.
> Discussion Over Dinner
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The smell of dinner wafted through the halls of Highferia Hall. Rarity, being as efficient as she was, had finished setting the table in the dining hall, and was now en route to find Tirek, who was likely in the west wing study. Not wanting to leave Selina alone, Rarity allowed the gargoyle to ride on her back. Fortunately, the child was careful not to kick or struggle, as she knew doing so caused a great deal of discomfort for Rarity.

“Do we need get him?” Selina asked, wrapping her arms around Rarity's neck to keep herself stable. 

“I’m not a fan of him either, but he’s the Lady’s eldest child, and Spike’s guardian until his mother returns. If she returns,” Rarity said, muttering the last part under her breath. As they approached the study, Rarity paused for a moment. Perhaps being the child wasn't the best of ideas she'd had. Tirek was very irritable at times, and was known for lashing out at anyone he found annoying. Then again, Rarity was convinced that Tirek found everyone on Earth to be annoying. “Selina, why don’t you hurry along and go to the dining room? I can imagine your uncle might be snide, and I find it best not to have you exposed to his rubbish.”

Selina mulled over the choice but for a moment. “Okay Rarity. Thanks for the ride.”

“It was no trouble, no trouble at all.” Selina hopped off of Rarity’s back, gave her leg a quick hug, and proceeded to the dining hall, allowing Rarity to proceed without worry. The unicorn gave the door three knocks and waited. There were an myriad of loud stomps, until the door swung open. Tirek stood with bloodshot eyes and a hideous scowl as he towered over the mare.

“What do you want?” He asked, almost sneering at the unicorn.

“Spike and her lady are almost done with dinner, and the table is set. I'm simply here to let you know.” Rarity said, bowing her head.  “Also, your mother has told me that you and I are to get along as best we can, as not to have a repeat that small spat we had the last time you were here.”

“It was your fault that small spat happened." Tirek grumbled. "Besides, how is dinner already made? I’ve been in the study for less than two minutes!”

“Thirty minutes actually, but I suppose you were busy perfecting your glare and lost track of time. Maker knows what else you’d do in your spare time.”

“Of course it's been that long." The centaur grumbled to himself several odd things before turning his attention towards Rarity. "I might lose track of time, but at least I never waste it with frivolousness, such as make-up or curling my mane- " 

"Well, you're completely bald, and have a shaggy, hideous beard."

"-or manipulating a child,” Tirek growled. While he would never admit it, Tirek's lack of hair made him a tad bit semiconscious.

Rarity flushed red for a moment before huffing. “Why I never! I do not manipulate Spike! I’m sorry if my job includes bringing him here for a visit. What do you do all day!?”

“I never mentioned my nephew but thank you for proving my point. I do whatever my brother demands of me so long as it’s reasonable. Not to mention I raise his son and keep the boy safe.”

“Yes, yes, it must be hard cracking the whip and yelling at him when he has an original thought.”

"I make money so that Spike may be fed and clothed, the least he could do is a few chores and-!”

“That better not be yelling I hear!” Haydon’s voice sang, echoing down the hall. “Otherwise a pony might be out of a job, a son might find himself disowned, and a dragon will find himself living with me.” 

They both looked at each other and let out a huff. They didn't know how, but Haydon could hear them across the world if she wanted. If they argued anymore, they would surely face the consequences. “Follow me, master. You should eat something considering you look like a shriveled corpse,” She said in as sarcastic a tone as she could. This was the politest she’d ever been to Tirek.

“Thank you, my graciously aging mare. Might I say those wrinkles along your eyes are hardly noticeable?” This was the kindest compliment Tirek had paid Rarity. 

Tirek and Rarity slowly made their way into the dining hall stewing in their anger. They had never gotten along so well before. Upon entering, the pair found both Spike and Selina had taken their seats already, Spike was the farthest away from the head, sitting next to little Selina who seemed upset about something.

Tirek glanced towards Spike who seemed troubled about something, but still managed to dreamily look towards Rarity, who would no doubt start gossiping the moment she sat. And then there was his youngest niece. Selina, as adorable as some might find her, was grating to him, asking countless questions, and demanding someone entertain her with a story. It was best that he’d avoid her at all costs. He went to sit across from Spike, only to be stopped by Rarity.

“That’s my seat for tonight, I’ve even ran it by your mother.”

“I’m sorry?”

"This is my seat."

“It’s true. Grandma says you need to sit across from me,” His niece murmured, pouting. “If I’m not nice, I don’t get dessert.” 

Tirek grasped the bridge of his nose, but did as instructed. His mother would never let a lie stand, and when Spike seemed down for whatever reason, Rarity made sure to stay close to try and lift his spirits. Not terribly hard, all she needed was her smile. In fact the young drake already seemed happier, though he was likely caught in a day dream.

Haydon entered and placed in the center of the table a large platter of steaks, each about two inches thick, exciting Selina, earning a smile from Spike, but a small gag from Rarity. Meat disgusted the unicorn, as it did nearly all ponies. There were days she asked herself why she took a job in Arcania of all places, but soon remembered upon looking towards Tirek, who anxiously tapped his fingers against the table. She once received a small favor from Tirek, which only happened thanks to her employer. Thinking about it, perhaps he was kinder than she thought, considering he never lorded the favor over her.

Haydon disappeared into the kitchen once more only to return with two large bowls, one of mixed vegetables and one of mixed fruit. There were several types of berries mixed in with few slices of apples. The vegetables were just an assortment of greens and carrots. Much to Selina and Spike’s relief, there was no broccoli. In fact the worse green the two saw was spinach and kale, which were tolerable. Each bowl was half for Rarity, half for everyone else. The unicorn was thankful that her employer provided suitable nourishment for her, especially since meat was served so often. 

Haydon disappeared into the kitchen one last time, returning with a second, smaller platter with four steaks. The sight brought a gleam to Tirek’s eye. As soon as the platter was set down, two claws, one purple and one red, reached out with forks to spear a cut of beef. They didn’t get far though, as Haydon, with a swiftness found only in a Pegasus pony, quickly smacked their hands with a wooden spoon.

“Not yet!” She sneered with a twisted face, before returning to her more joyful demeanor. Both Spike and Tirek pulled their hands back and began to rub their sore spots. Haydon took her seat at the head of the table and adjusted a napkin on her lap. “Rarity, would you mind-” 

“Oh, of course! I’ll be right back.” It was Rarity’s turn to retrieve something this time. She left for the cellar and returned with a corked bottle. She began pouring the contents into Haydon’s, Tirek’s and her goblets. Selina held out her cup only to have Rarity gently push it away. “This drink isn’t for you, Sweetheart.”

Instantly, Spike knew what it was: wine. The drake grimaced, not because his family were drunkards, but rather because he hated the taste of it and all alcoholic drinks. When Spike was five, he had once pestered his mother a week straight for just on taste of wine. After all, it must have been good if his entire family liked it. When she finally relented, it was on the condition that he ate twice of vegetables that night and that he could only have one sip. Spike accepted and was given his mother's cup. It was the most disgustingly bitter beverage that he’d ever had in his life.To make matters worse, his mother had served the worst vegetable in the world, steamed broccoli. On that day, he’d swore never to drink alcohol for as long as he lived.

“But can’t I just have one sip?” Selina asked, looking at Rarity with pleading eyes and a quivering lip. Spike knew that he had to take action before she suffered a similar fate to his. While he loved his little sister, he knew she was prone to complain, and such antics were likely to strip her of her dessert, something he couldn't bare to watch.

“Selina, you don’t want it, it’s really gross,” the dragon explained, hoping that she would just take his word for it 

“Gross how?” She asked, wondering just how Spike knew that wine was gross.

“Imagine the most disgusting, bitter thing you can think of, and then double it.”

There were two types the reactions around the table. Haydon and Rarity both wore small smiles. It sent a wave of relief through them to see Spike try and dissuade Selina from trying wine while Tirek rolled his eyes. While Spike was an amazing cook, his nephews pallet was not as sophisticated as older demographics. Wine, especially the wine that Haydon owned, was an amazing drink, but the boy had ruined his experience by trying it too early. Now, he was spreading lies about such a wonderful beverage to the youth of his family.

“You’re just saying that!” Surely, wine couldn't be bitter, otherwise, no one in her family would drink it. Perhaps their father would, as he loved coffee imported from Griffon Stone, and coffee was the worst. What if it was like coffee? Then again, Rarity hated coffee, and she drunk wine. 

“I swear, I’m not! When I got to try a sip-”

“You tried some already?!” 

Spike inwardly groaned, realizing what he'd just unleashed. His sister was likely to pout and complain until someone, but not his uncle, gave in. Fortunately, he still had a way of controlling his sister, just to keep her from making any mistake he had already made.

“That’s not fair!” Selina said, her voice growing harsh. “Why can’t I try some!? I wanna try some!” She folded her arms and held her breath, allowing Spike to finish his warning.

“To get one sip, I had to eat twice as many vegetables and I didn’t get dessert afterwards.” The last part was a lie, but a necessary one in his opinion. It would keep her away from any desire to even look at wine, let alone wanting a taste. Truthfully, all he was doing was saving her from tasting a very bitter drink.

The young girl’s ears perked up as the last part of Spike's warning sent a chill up her spine. Selina’s face softened as her arms unfolded, and she pulled her cup back, sinking in her seat. “Never mind, I’m good with juice.”

“Are you sure sweetie? I think a single, small sip is well worth your entire dessert for tonight,” Haydon said, hiding a triumphant smile behind her now raised cup. If there was one thing she loved about Spike, it was how caring of an older brother he was towards Selina. While she detested lying, she could ignore it this one time.

“I’m sure! I’m sure!” Selina assured, moving her cup away from Rarity. Tonight, her grandmother had promised her a sliver of chocolate cake, and a sliver at her grandmother's house was normally was anything but. Haydon tended to give her and her siblings good sized slices, perhaps half more than needed, but only with they were good and cleared their plate. No amount of wine was worth losing that.

Smiling, and mouthing a quick thank you to Spike, Rarity retrieved a second bottle, this one filled with a cran-raspberry juice. A bit bitter, but sweet at the same time. It had taken Spike a little while to get used to, but now he loved the cocktail. Once the children’s cups were filled, Haydon began to serve her family. 

“Selina,” she began, glaring at her son and grandson, silently scolding them for their poor manners, “mind giving me your plate?”

Selina gently pushed her plate forward, careful not to seem too greedy lest she face a punishment similar to Spike and her uncle’s, and was given one steak, and two spoonfuls of fruit, and a very small spoonful of vegetables. Rarity was next, mostly to give her something else to pay attention to while the others ate. It would be rude to take her meal elsewhere, especially when Haydon insisted that she eat with the family. She was given two spoonfuls of both vegetables and fruit. Then it was Haydon’s turn, from the smaller plate, she took one steak, much to Tirek’s disappointment. It was the largest cut, and by the juices that had pooled around it, probably the best cut at the table.

What was unfair was that the best cut on the larger platter was still waiting to be taken. And he knew who was waiting for it. At least he was going to be served next. It was only when she took the best piece of the larger platter and gave it to Spike that he raised a brow.

“You’re older, Tirek,” his mother chided, as she served Spike fruits and vegetables. “You should have remembered to mind your manners. And Spike, your uncle still has to be served, I expect you to wait.” There was a clatter as Spike put down his utensils and chuckled.

Blatant favoritism, Tirek thought to himself before finally being served.

"Now you may eat," Haydon said, picking up her knife and fork.

Almost instantly, Spike was tearing into his meal. Though he was as polite a boy as one could be, his Grandmother’s cooking made him forget civility, instilling in him an urge to feast. And with a perfect medium steak, how could he not? The flavor of garlic, the taste of the thyme that they’d used to cook the steak, the butter that they basted it in, and the cheese that they had melted on top of it while it cooked in the oven gave it a small kick. 

It was one of Spike’s best meals to date, but only because his grandmother instructed him at each step. He had already torn through his obligatory serving of fruits and vegetables, and was a third through his steak, pausing only to take a sip of juice to wash down his food. However, there was a part of him that urged him to slow down, reminding him of a unicorn sitting across from him. He paused, looking up from his plate to see Rarity almost breathing into her meal. “Rarity, is everything okay?” He asked, after swallowing his food.

“Yes, yes of course! Everything is absolutely fine!” Rarity tried her best to look away, but soon found her eyes drifting to the side, towards Tirek plate. Bile threatened to crawl up her throat, seeing almost raw meat. “Master Tirek, you steak seems to still be mooing.”

“Yes, it’s called a rare steak for a reason. It's for those of us that have a pallet,” Tirek said, taking solace in Rarity’s reaction. As much time as Spike had wasted by dint of being in Highferia Hall, it was the little things that made a visit to his mother’s worthwhile. Perhaps he’d return soon and demand a whole roasted hog. There was nothing like a dish that stared back at you as you cut into it. The centaur could only imagine how the unicorn would react. And then how Spike's diet would effect their relationship. Rejection was the first thing that came to his mind, followed by a resolve from his nephew to devote himself to his studies, and soon, the world would know the name of Spike Solaris: The Dragon Sage. The fantasy brought a small smile to Tirek's face.

Spike began eating again, slower this time, though he was still through his meal in less than a few moments. He quickly took a second steak, earning a look from his grandmother.

“Spike, slow down, you’re going to get sick.”

Spike nodded, but ignored her plea and finished his food in under four minutes. A new personal record if he was keeping track. Spike reached to spear a third steak, only for a wooden spoon to smack the top of his hand. He pulled back his hand with a yelp and began to rub the sore spot again while looking towards his grandmother betrayed.

“Don’t give me that look,” Haydon scolded, wagging a finger at her grandson. “None of us have even finished our first helping, and your trying to take thirds. Not to mention Rarity had to listen to you the entire time, if not watch. Poor thing.”

At this Spike’s eyes went wide before sinking into his seat. “Sorry, Rarity,” he said, feeling a bit queasy in his stomach. 

“It’s all fine, Spike, honestly,” Rarity said while she stared a hole into the table. “I choose to work here after all.”

Tirek felt another wave of satisfaction wash over him. The fact that Spike's own diet alienated the girl was nothing short of poetry.

“Rarity, why do you work here if you ate meat so much?” Selina asked. “Everyone eats meat! Mommy, daddy, the maids, the cooks, the guards, everyone!”

“Aside from your grandmother being one of the most kindest souls I've ever met and knowing each one of you and your siblings, benefits,” She said, glancing toward Tirek. “As much as I dislike meat, working for the mother of one of world's most respected Sages has its benefits.”

“What benefits does knowing Uncle Tirek have, he’s a dunderhead!”

“Selina!” Haydon gasped. “I thought I told you to be nice to your uncle. Apologize this instant!”

“But Grandma, it’s true! I asked Sendak if there was any topic that he was clueless about, and he said that there was! He even called him a dunderhead!”

“Selina-”

Tirek raised his hand silencing his mother as he looked up from his meal directly towards his niece. “My signature can ruin or enhance a mage’s career if I wanted it to. I alone have the pull to get individuals in the most prestigious magic academies with a mere wave of my hand, as some people at the table can attest to. In what subject am I lacking?” Tirek asked putting his utensils to the side and clasping his hands together.

Selina stood in her seat and cleared her throat. “‘Your uncle lacks the knowledge to be anything that isn’t miserable,’” Selina said in what was supposed a deep voice, pretending to stroke a white beard. “‘If he isn’t yelling at Spike for being-um- not perfect, he’s wasting his time broodening in his basement. To put it mildidly, and in terms you can understand, he is an emotional dunderhead.’” 

Spike let out a soft chuckle at the imitation, only to fall silent when Tirek shot him a look. Selina’s anecdote was paraphrased quite a bit, however, the spirit of the statement held true, and Tirek knew it. That didn’t stop Haydon giving her her granddaughter a disappointed look. “Sorry Grandma, sorry Uncle Tirek,” she said, as she fell down in her seat.

“You should be. It is unbecoming to mock a Sage of Sendak’s stature,” The centaur told his niece. “You and your siblings should be thankful he plays babysitter for any of you… children.” A better word to have used would have been brats, but Tirek was sitting at his mother’s table, and he needed to be as kind as he could.

“Is yelling at him bad?” Selina asked.

“Yes. I would say just as bad as mocking him. Why?” Tirek’s eyes narrowed as he gripped the edges of his table. “What did my brother say to him? Or was it your mother? Oh, if it was that screeching-”

“It was Elric!” Selina said, as if she were tattling on her sisters for stealing her hair brush. “He was yelling at Sendak for, like, thirty minutes this morning!”

When the name left her mouth, both Spike and Tirek’s expressions shifted in unison. It was as if she’d mentioned someone taboo. Spike had recalled his little sister mentioning their older brother earlier that day, but he tuned it out. However, that didn't stop the dragon from became dejected once again, while Tirek let out a snarl.

“Who does that impudent bull think he is!?” The centaur shouted.

“Tirek, that’s your nephew and my grandson!”  There was nothing more insulting to call a centaur than a bull. In fact, it was safe to say it was as bad as calling a gargoyle an ape or a monkey, or a jackal or diamond dog a mutt. Very derogatory terms indeed.

“He’s not wrong though,” Rarity murmured in a quiet voice. Elric was the oldest of all Haydon’s grandchildren, and Rarity’s least favorite of all her employer's relatives. It was a kind way for saying most hated, barely inching out Tirek. In fact, their utter disdain for the boy was one of the few things that she and Tirek could agree on.

“No nephew of mine would dare think to raise his voice at Sendak! Girl, what possessed him to think that he had the right to speak to a Sage in such a way? I swear, if it’s his incessant desire for me to teach him-”

Almost instantly, Selina’s ears, tail, and wings fell. “Sendak was really sad this morning and didn’t feel like tutoring him, because his friend left him. I gave him a hug, but it didn’t help. Thing is it happened a really long time ago! Can't he just make a new one?”

There was a noticeable shift in mood as the faces of Tirek and Haydon became tense for just a moment.

Spike’s scaled ears suddenly began to spread apart, as if to take in as much sound as he could. There was a sudden black claw that sprung forth and wrapped itself around his innards, slowly squeezing them until they felt like they were on fire. “His friend left today?” Spike paused, thinking of who could have left in the month of April that could make a cheerful and collected centaur like Sendak the least bit sad. The only person that it could be sent a wave of anxiety over him. “Who was his friend?” he asked after collecting some much needed courage.

“He said I shouldn’t say.”

Haydon put her fork down and cleaned her lips with her napkin. Much to her shame, she mentally insulted her granddaughter for her answer. Why couldn’t she have said that Sendak didn’t say? She gave Spike a smile before saying, “Spike, if Sendak wants to keep that matter private, why don’t we leave it alone? Rarity, do you have any stories about Equestria? I’ve always found those fascinating! Tell us again about that Prince you met at that gala, the one that was infatuated with the baker-”

“Her name was Kindle, wasn’t it?” Spike's question caused the room to darken. There was no point in hiding the fact that he knew, or that his family knew. Perhaps they would talk to him about it for once if Selina gave him an answer.

“How’d you know?” Selina asked, unwittingly answering his question.

Though he already knew it, Spike felt a sudden pain in his heart as the countless coincidences involving his family including the reason that his grandmother chose to make one of his favorite meals, inviting only Selina to her home, and even his uncle’s choices to let him sleep in and stay the night at his grandmother's became clear as day. He couldn’t understand why he missed it, his family had always done this to him when this time usually came around.

“Selina, I am shocked!” Haydon said, trying to muster as much anger as she could. However, while there was certainly a level of fury, her voice was trembling, and her eyes nervously darted towards Spike for brief moments. “Sendak didn't want you to share!”

Selina shrank in her seat looked down at her food as her ears fell against her head. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“I’m sure Sendak will understand. There's no need to get angry. By the way, what’s today date?” Spike asked, looking towards the adults at the table. Rarity, though the farthest for the situation, looked at him with pity, his uncle held anger in his eyes, and his grandmother was filled with shame, with something darker hiding behind it.

The little gargoyle, happily oblivious of the growing tensions, took a few moments to remember. “I thinks It’s-”

“Selina, did Spike happen to tell you that I’m making you a new dress?” Rarity’s voice cut through the dining hall, earning the small gargoyle's attention. Selina’s face promptly lit up as her tail began to wag.

“I’m getting a new dress!?” she shouted, fluttering her wings and lifting herself in the air for a moment before falling back into her seat. “Is it pretty?”

“Darling, it’s not just pretty, it’s fabulous! It’s going to make you look like a sweet little princess!” Rarity said out of mere instinct. “How about we go see it, right now? I’m sure your grandmother won’t mind, right?”

Selina let out a gasp as she turned the one person that could excuse her from the table, as she still had a bite of steak left and a quarter of her vegetables still on her plate.

“Yes! Yes! Of course! You both have fun now!” Haydon said, her smile returning. “I’ll just bring you your dessert later.”

“Wait-!”

“I still get dessert!? This is the best day ever! Thank you, Grandma!” Selina became a blur as she gave her grandmother a quick hug before she scampered off, followed by Rarity, to see her new dress. 

“-you never answered my question.” Spike let a sigh as he sunk back into his seat. A short silence filled the room as Haydon’s eyes shifted back and forth from Tirek to Spike, desperately trying to think of something to talk about. The centaur sat deep in his own thoughts, while Spike slowly worked up the courage to speak. “I don’t suppose either of you know what day it is?”

“Haven’t a clue!” Haydon said, forcing herself to smile, knowing full well what date it was and who Spike wanted to talk about. Haydon would rather talk about the rude, drunken centaur that tried grope her earlier in the week. At least he had a few redeemable qualities. There was nothing that soured her mood like the mere mention of Kindle Solaris or her younger son Scorpan, though he could at least keep a smile while talking about him. “Why don’t you take some more steak before it gets cold? I’m sure Selina wouldn’t mind you taking her seconds.”

“You don’t have to lie, Grandma. Or change the subject.”

“Spike, I would never-”

“Enough, Mother, you’re just embarrassing yourself," Tirek scoffed as he forced himself to finish the last bit of his meal. The moment Selina began talking about Sendak’s sorrow, he’d lost his appetite, and Spike’s nagging had only added to that sick feeling growing in his stomach. "And you-" Tirek turned to Spike and shook his head. "-you never cease to amaze me.” 

“For the love of all that is holy,” Haydon mumbled to herself. “Tirek don’t-!”

“What sort of child uses his mother to garner sympathy from someone as giving as their grandmother, no less?”

“Tirek-!”

Spike’s claws clenched as he let out a breath, perhaps it was because he was in the safety of his Grandmother’s, but he felt just bold enough to speak his mind. “I’m not using her for anything, you’re just lying!”

“What lies have I told?!” Tirek shouted. “I’ve sat here trying to enjoy my meal, while you and the girl pester anyone that will listen!”  

“I’m only doing it because it’s mid-April, and both of you pull this every year! I would have remembered eventually, why not just admit what day it is?!”

“Because, I don’t care what day it is! I care about you succeeding, growing, not wallowing in pity every time you feel like it!”

Haydon slammed her fist on the table. “Both of you stop it this instant!” The room fell silent as the atmosphere grew thicker by the second, while Spike and Tirek continued to glare at one another. Haydon began to breath heavily as just a small bit of tears began to form in her eyes. She was getting emotional, worse, irrational. Haydon was naturally a woman of control. Everything should be orderly and pleasant. Arguing and scolding were to be saved for wrong doings and small disagreements between a woman and her husband or children. 

Unfortunately, Her anger was slowly growing, and she was convinced she was close to losing her wits for a moment and doing something she’d regret. “I have the two of you for one night," She said, trying not to loose herself to her emotions. "I refuse to have either of you ruin it! Spike, we worked hard on this meal, can’t we do our best to enjoy it? You can ask me all the questions about your mother after dinner. Please." Her expression softened, allowing Spike to see growing pools of tears in her eyes. The dragon suddenly became racked with guilt, as he tried to think of something to say without backing down.  

"Fine," he mumbled. "Only-"

"I promise I'll be as truthful as I can. Okay?" She received a nod, which at the moment, was good enough for her. "Now, Tirek, can’t you act kind just one moment in your life and keep your ego in check?” She asked her question in her normal, gentle voice but looking at Tirek with an intensity of the sun. 

“Kind? I’m kind every day to Spike! He’s the one who badgers on about his mother, as if Kindle abandoned him!” 

It was very unfortunate that Tirek mentioned Kindle Solaris abandoning her son. Had he not done so, perhaps this story might have gone differently. Perhaps it would have ended with Haydon having a serious talk with Spike, and Spike accepting what had happened. Perhaps after he shed his tears, and was comforted by Rarity, Selina, Haydon, and even Tirek, he would have gone to sleep and finally put the uncertainties around his mother to rest the next day. Unfortunately, this would not happen. Unfortunately, Tirek had made it sound like Kindle had not abandoned her son, and that was all Haydon needed to hear.

The gargoyle a snarl. “That forsaken whore did abandon him!” Her voice echoed into the halls, alerting both Rarity and Selina that an argument was afoot.

Silence loomed in the dining hall as Haydon realized too late what she’d said. She slowly craned her neck towards Spike, mentally cursing herself. Her heart nearly ripped in two when she saw the blank expression on his face as he stared at her. “Spike, I-I didn’t mean that. I just-”

“At least someone finally said it.” Spike moved his chair away from the table he hopped down from his perch and made his way towards the exit. “I’m going to bed.” Not soon after Spike had disappeared into the shadow's of the hallway did Tirek follow. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue until he reached the doorway.

“She didn’t abandon him,” He said, refusing to turn and face his mother. “She’s coming back.” The door to the dining hall slammed shut, leaving Haydon all alone.

If there was someone that stood in the right spot in Highferia Hall, they could have sworn they heard soft weeping.
> In the Dead of Night
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rarity couldn’t, for the life of her, name the worst part of a fight. Two hours had passed since dinner, and everyone had retreated to separate rooms. Rarity waited outside of Spike’s, unsure of how to approach him. She had heard yelling while she was showing Selina her new dress, and her intuition urged her to check on him before anyone else. He was her little Spike after all, and he’d been so for seven years. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, finding the dragon huddled in a ball, laying in the center of his bed. “Spike, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Rarity,” He said, staring at the wall.

She trotted towards him. “If you want to talk-”

“I just want to be left alone.” 

Spike wanting to be left alone was certainly new, and very worrying. Normally Spike could chat for hours with Rarity, just so long as it was her listening. She never minded their chats, she quite enjoyed it as it made Spike happy. Rarity knew she could force the issue, but that was likely to only exacerbate the situation. “A-alright. Goodnight.” 

Rarity closed the door and proceeded down the hall, growing more and more bitter each step she took. It had to be Tirek that upset the poor dear, no one else was heartless enough to do so. She didn’t know what she was going to do or say, but she was going to chew him out at the very least. She reached the centaur’s room, only to hear loud grunts as she approached.

“I never should have allowed him to stay here! Calling Kindle a whore, who does that woman think she is? How did she think he’d react?!” Rarity heard through the door. There was a string of curses and a loud crash before tapering out into a soft complaining. “I’ll be blamed for this when she returns, then what?”

The ‘she’ he was talking about had to be Spike’s mother.  Rarity didn’t know if Tirek was willfully ignorant, or if it was some hope he still had that he would be free of his nephew. Uncouth bull, it's been eight years, Rarity thought as she shook her head, sick of listening to Tirek's musings. Her thoughts then turned to her mistress. Rarity could only imagine how poorly she was handling it. Perhaps it was time that she checked on Haydon.





“Stupid-UGH!” Haydon paced around the room, wanting to hit something, but knowing that doing so would solve nothing. She took a moment to collect herself before gliding over to the edge of her bed and taking a seat. Out of habit, she began toying with one of her earrings, something she'd always done when stressed. Part of her should have known this would happen. What she still couldn’t understand was why Tirek still held Kindle on a pedestal. For all she knew, he needed to believe she was coming home. 

Probably thinks that she’ll do a better job at raising him. Blasted fool! She tightly gripped the sheets of her bed as she struggled to think about something else. Haydon could hardly tolerate the thought of Spike’s mother, though she loved Spike with all her heart. The only reason she allowed such a wretched creature into her home some years ago was so that Spike would have his mother. He deserved at least that much from her, even if both she and Scorpan were undeserving of him. There were times she wished that her husband was still alive. The wise centaur he was, he’d know what to do when it came to Spike. As she ruminated on her deceased love, there came a sudden knock. “Yes?” She asked in a less than friendly tone.

“Milady, might I come in? I brought some wine.”

It was Rarity. her voice seemed to lift her spirits a tad bit, something she was thankful for. Haydon knew she was lucky to have such a skilled and charismatic handmaid to keep her company. She allowed herself to become calm. “Come in,” she said, still toying with her earing. The unicorn trotted in and levitated a goblet of wine to the gargoyle.

“Thank you, Rarity,” She said before downing the beverage. “No more though. I can’t become drunk on top of a of everything else.”

“Understood. Is there something you wish to chat about?”

“Yes.” There was a short pause. “No.” Another pause. “Maybe?” Haydon buried her face in her hands before letting out a frustrated groan. “We go through something like this every year. Spike seems to forget Kindle thanks to all the work Tirek has him do, but he always remembers. I try to have him here so at least he enjoys some time to himself, but then he starts asking questions!” Haydon began to rub her forehead. “What am I supposed to do, or say?” She put on a happy expression, and said in a mockingly high tone, “I’m sorry your whore mother abandoned you, honey. Here, have a nice steak! Oh, you think you’re worthless because she’ll never came back? Have a hug, that’ll solve all your problems!” She slumped over. “Then I make things worse. I practically called her a whore and told him that she abandoned him to Spike's face.”

“That’s-” Rarity bit her lip as she tried to think of something to say. “I don’t know how to respond to that. Might I ask why we do this every year?”

“To give him a break! To let him know that just because his mother left him, and his father wants nothing to do with him, he’s still loved by someone! And Tirek certainly isn’t going to say it!”

“Like that bull could even think about giving him praise. I don’t envy you, Haydon. I’m just the handmaid, I can’t imagine how you feel. This seems so difficult.”

“Rarity, things have always been difficult when it comes to Spike. And it’s not his fault! None of this is his fault! He never asked to be born, but his parents-” She let out a groan. “-I love Scorpan, but what that gargoyle did, what they both did.” Haydon spat on the ground as he nails dug into her knees. “And then for Kindle to leave him. Half of me hopes she’s burning in some well-deserved pit, the other hopes she found some mercy. Tirek keeps saying she’s coming home, but what good does that do?”

“Maybe it keeps Spike’s hope alive?”

“He’d have to actually believe it for that to happen.” The gargoyle held her hand over her eyes as droplets of tears leaked onto the wooden floor. “Rarity, can you tuck Selina in tonight? I-I need to collect myself and think of a way to fix this.”

“Of course. Good-night, Haydon.”

“Good-night, Rarity.”





Rarity returned to her workshop to find the Selina drawing on a few pieces of scrap paper with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. The sound of trotting caught the young girl’s attention.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, looking up at the pony with worried eyes. “Did I do bad?” She recalled that everything began to go south the moment that she mentioned Sendak’s sorrow. The girl couldn’t help but feel as though she was partly to blame for the yelling she’d heard earlier.

“No, you didn’t do bad. It’s just grown up things. Nothing more.” Rarity never liked to discuss Spike’s mother or his situation with any of her mistress’s grandchildren, especially Selina. After all, Selina was the only sibling that liked Spike. The others ranged from tacit indifference if they were younger than him, or outright hatred from those that were his senior. “How about we forget about tonight and chalk it up to silliness?”

“Okay, but Spike said he’d play with me tonight.”

Rarity let out a sigh. She couldn’t very well tell her the truth, so she lied to poor girl. “Spike is under the weather right now.” She received a sad look. “I know, I know, it’s uncouth for boys to lie, but I would make an exception in this case. Just you wait, come tomorrow things will be different. For now, your Grandmother says it’s time for bed and for me to tuck you in.” Rarity lifted Selina up in her aura and carried her to her room in the east wing. “Go get changed, and don’t forget to brush your teeth.” Rarity closed the door to give her some privacy. 

After a few minutes, Selina opened the door, now wearing a pink nightgown. Rarity followed her to her bed and waited until the gargoyle had climbed in before putting the comforters over her. Selina gestured over to one of her bags, where a stuffed dragon sat. Rarity levitated the doll over to her and placed it in her arms. “There we are, nice and warm. Just you wait, I’m sure Spike will be ready and willing to play with you tomorrow, despite your uncle’s... objections.”

“That sounds nice.” Selina nestled into her bed and closed her eyes. She opened them not a moment later as she recalled the last part of Rarity’s statement. “Rarity, why is Uncle Tirek always so mean?”

“Because he’s pigheaded sometimes. He has an ego the size of your father’s house and being the world’s most powerful sage is not helping in that regard. He’s rude, nasty, utterly dreadful.” Rarity paused for a moment as she remembered the favor that Tirek did for her. “But he’s not all bad. Did you know I have a sister?” 

“No. What’s she like?” Selina asked, sitting up in her bed.

“She’s kind, and adorable, has an amazing singing voice and a bubbly personality. Her name is Sweetie Belle, the sweetest unicorn in the world. She wants to become a cleric, or healer to put it in simple terms. Back then, my parents couldn’t afford anything that could actually help her, let alone send her to a college for such a thing. Thanks to your uncle though, she managed to get into a prestigious college without my parents having to spend a penny. Do you know why he did it?” 

Selina shook her head in response.

“It’s because I asked him to. I didn’t have to do anything in return, or praise him, or take back anything I said. He just grumbled and sent a letter to heaven knows where. Maybe it was because your grandmother was there urging him though, I don’t know for sure. A few days later, I’m getting a letter from Sweetie, excited that she’ll be attending school overseas. Thinking about it, I haven’t seen her in a while. Perhaps I could ask for some time off and visit her when classes let out in the Summer.”

“I think she’d like that. I wish Spike could visit me at my house. I could show him the new flowers in the gardens.” Selina smiled as she dreamily thought of her brother and her, along with maybe a few of their other siblings playing tag in the gardens, hide and seek, and maybe even having Sendak tell them a story about one of the many statues in the garden. Selina’s personal favorite was the story of a human girl named Megan the Savior.

While very rare, there were a select few humans that were well respected in many kingdoms, including Equestria, even to this day. For Arcania, there was no one in history as revered as Megan the Savior. At the same time, there were some cultures that detested the very mention of humans. In the druid kingdom of Thicket and the desert kingdom of Anugypt, there was no race more deserving of extinction than humans. Every year, they, and kingdoms like them, celebrated the race’s disappearance.

“He’d probably like that, but I would advise against it. It could get uncomfortable.”

“But it isn’t uncomfortable! I like being there, if I like it then so would Spike!”

“Selina, one day you’ll understand, but for now, know that it’s just different for Spike. And no, it’s not because he’s a dragon. Now, I think it’s time for a cute little gargoyle to go to bed.” Rarity booped her nose, receiving a humph.

“But I’m not even that tired! Can I at least hear a story? Please?” Selina whimpered a bit as she let her lip tremble.

Rarity chewed her inner cheek for a moment. “Well, I suppose I could tell you one story. Anything specific you’d like to hear?”

“Humans,” she demanded in an excited whisper.





Rarity closed the door to Selina’s room as soon as she finished her story. The gargoyle was sleeping soundly now, whisked away by the unicorn’s tale into her own dreamland.

Rarity had recounted the legend of Molly the Harmonious, a human found by two ponies when she was but an infant. As the story went, the young girl gave up nearly everything to stop a great threat to Equestria. She was even one of the few humans allowed to be buried outside a human settlement, at the request of the Equestrian royal family. Of course, this supposedly happened well over 3000 years ago, so it was near impossible for anyone to know if it was true or not.

The unicorn changed into her nightgown, a light pink garment with long sleeves, and prepared to for a much-needed good night’s sleep. Tomorrow was likely going to bring many awkward and unpleasant conversations, and she'd rather not be tired when they came about. She closed her eyes, hoping to be whisked away into the land of dreams, only for a faint clicking somewhere in the mansion to force her to rise and leave the confines of her bed. However, before leaving she reached into her dresser draw and drew out a very much needed something.





There was no better time to break into a house than when there was an overcast at night. Rainbow Dash flew against the darkened sky, fantasizing about the spoils she would take away from the mansion. She had part of a plan in her head. Not to say that she needed any part of a plan. She was the world’s greatest thief and could survive merely on improvisation. 

She would enter through a second story window and try to make her way towards the basement where there was likely to be a safe. She didn’t know for sure if there was a basement, but on average rich folk tended to keep their gold and other treasures cooped deep in the bowels of their mansions.

She landed at the few feet from the estate, trying to find any speck of light that might be from a candle, but there were only darkened windows of a darkened estate. Knowing that any occupants were likely warm in bed, Rainbow drew her hood over her head and a mask over her muzzle, allowing only her eyes and a few strands of rainbow hair to show. She wore her thieves guild garbs, a uniform unfamiliar in Arcania, as their now defunct thieves guild operated in pure black uniforms. Her outfit was comprised of two cloth boots, both a dark grey, and a greyish-green tunic that also came equipped with a face mask. There was a cape and hood to keep her body concealed.

She quickly flew up to the second story, a darkened blur that some might assume was a figment of their imagination. There she started to quickly peek in window after window, trying to find the perfect room to enter. The first few had silhouettes in their beds, a few gaps between each other, but not enough to warrant entry. It was only when she reached the west portion of the mansion that she couldn’t find a single occupied room.

Choosing a room at random, she easily slid open the window. No one ever bothered locking the higher-level windows, they always figured burglars would enter through the first floor. It was a mistake she loved correcting as often as possible, and she would usually pay herself on their behalf for imparting such lessons.

Rainbow Dash crept into the room, blanketed by darkness. It was a spacious, but rather simple bedroom. There was one large bed, a dresser in a corner, two wardrobes, one on each side of the bed, and a vanity across from the foot of the bed, housing two boxes. She ignored the wardrobes and skulked towards the vanity, taking a seat as soon as she was close. There was nothing in the draws save for a small coin purse, a knife, and some makeup. She pocketed the knife and the money. She could at least sell the tool for a good price, much more than any used makeup.

She moved on and opened the first box, only to find nothing but brushes and hairclips. She moved on to the second box, only to find it locked. This was no problem for her. If she wanted to, Rainbow Dash could pick a lock using nothing but her own plucked feathers. It wouldn't come to that though, as she had a lock pick set on her belt in one of her various pouches. With a few pokes and prods, and a turning of her wrench, Rainbow Dash quickly undid the lock with only a soft click gently echoing out into the halls to sing of her success. She opened the lid to get a glimpse of her spoils, only to quickly close it when a tune began to play.

Damn music box! She thought to herself. She held her breath and refused to move a muscle. Her ears flickered every so often at the tiniest sound, waiting for a sign that somepony was encroaching upon the room. If that happened she would need to act as fast as she could and make sure they were indisposed of until morning. She couldn’t kill them, that would bring down ire that she’d rather avoid.

Several moments passed and she let out a soft sigh before resuming her work. She slowly began to open the box once again, listening for the soft sound of the release latch unlocking. There was a soft creak and her hooves quickly fumbled in the growing crevasses until one of them felt a small, cold metal bump. She held it down and opened the cover fully with her free hoof.

No music played, which to her was a thing of beauty. Best of all, there was a large assortment of jewelry laying in box. Sapphires earrings, rings of gold and silver, jeweled necklaces, a ruby broach, bracelets embedded with many sorts of expensive stones. The only thing missing from such a collection was a wedding ring. Rainbow quickly scooped the jewels into one of her spare pouches before closing the box.

Chuckling softly to herself, excited by her gains, she began to wonder what else was in the mansion. Thoughts of rooms like this one flooded her mind, filling her with an excitement she'd felt only a few times before. She’d have enough to retire if everything went well, not that she couldn't already retire. She'd built a comfortable nest egg over the years that would last until she was old and grey. Rainbow Dash took one step forward into the hall, only to find herself enveloped in an aura and thrown across the hall. She slammed into a door and fell to the ground with a thud. She quickly collected her wits and scanned the area for her attacker. The only light that helped her see in such a dark, grim area, was the light that came from the horn of a unicorn. It was a fierce glow, bathing everything in a light blue tinge.

She instantly recognized the unicorn to be the maid that she saw with the gargoyle earlier in the week. She had assumed she was just a run of the mill house keeper, perhaps a bit prissy and high maintenance judging by the overtly fancy clothes she wore. However, no upper crust maiden would have approached her with narrowed eyes like the unicorn was doing so now. Rainbow Dash jumped to her hooves. Out of instinct, she threw a punch, hoping to hit the mare and knock her off balance for just a moment. If she could exploit any sort of opening, Rainbow would be able to knock her out in a few hits and escape with what little loot she had.

Unfortunately, the handmaid easily blocked the attack. Her horn lit up with a fierce light as her aura drew a sharp knife from her under her sleeve. This is what Rarity had taken from her draw: it was a special sheath designed to attach to one of her forelegs, making it easy for her to draw a small dagger as quick as she could, no matter what she was wearing. This was especially useful in fights with thieves and other such scoundrels, especially if she was surrounded.

Rainbow Dash quickly dodged a flick of the knife and quickly began hopping backwards to gain some distance. While skilled, Rainbow Dash was by no means a fighter. Wind Rider had given her some combat training, it was only the basics, useful when fighting those who were unskilled or on par with her.

The mare charged at Rainbow Dash, closing the gap between them swiftly and silently. There was a quick flash of silver before Rainbow Dash felt a burning in her skin, on her chest to be exact. In the light of the unicorn’s magic, Rainbow watched as her uniform slowly turned a shade darker as it absorbed her blood. It was nothing lethal, but a wound could throw anyone off when fighting, as it had just done for Rainbow Dash.

Fortunately for the pegasus, her opponent seemed to pause for a moment, as if the unicorn wanted to get a look her handy work. Though her instincts were telling her to run and find a hole hide in, Rainbow Dash took the opportunity to strike. She hit the mare as hard as she could square on the side of her face. Unfortunately, the unicorn stumbled to the side, she managed to reach out and take hold of the arm. In one swift and precise movement, she flung the Pegasus over her, slamming her onto the ground. 

Rainbow Dash landed with a thud, dazing her for a few moments. Part of her was still trying to come to terms with what was happening. She was the world’s greatest thief, wasn't she? Yet here she was, at the mercy of a unicorn whose job was fetching her mistress’s wine and cleaning her linens. There was a sharp pain in her arm as the unicorn bent the hoof as far as it could go.

The unicorn stepped on the pegasus’s chest as she looked down at her without an expression. At least Rainbow thought it was expressionless. In truth, Rarity was utterly bored with Rainbow Dash, not to mention disappointed that she had wasted her efforts fighting a petty thief. The maid honestly debated on just letting her go. Then again, word might get out of her mercy, which would attract bolder thieves, and she couldn’t have that. The unicorn placed the dagger at the thief’s throat and gently whispered, “Any last words?”

Rainbow Dash struggled as best she could, mindful of the knife, only to receive a quick blow to the side of the face. She became dazed, reduced to a trembling mess. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't even let out a squeak. All the thief could do was silently shed tears as her life flashed before her eyes. There would be no celebrating at the Sweet Apple Tavern, she would not see her friends like she had promised, and she wouldn't hear words of praise from Wind Rider. Rainbow clenched her eyes, gritted her teeth and waited, until a voice cut through the darkness, earning her would be executioner’s attention.

“Rarity Crystalline Belle, what on earth are you doing!?” The voice was barely loud enough to be whisper but held an authority that rivaled that of a king. 

Rainbow’s eyes opened and investigated the darkness to see the figure of a gargoyle come into the dim light of the unicorn’s magic. She felt the knife move away from her throat just an inch, though thought it best not to try and make a move. It would only take the mare a moment to slit her throat, and while she was fast, Rainbow Dash was by no means a fool.

“You are being unapologetically loud,” The gargoyle sneered. “Need I remind you, that we have two children and a very irritable centaur sleeping here tonight? You slit her throat, Selina and Spike will see everything we leave behind. Is that what you want?!” It was no shock that Rarity was familiar with a knife or that she could hold her own in a fight, not to Haydon at least. In fact, it was these exact skills that she wanted in her handmaid, for scenarios such as tonight.

“No ma’am, it would frighten the poor dears. I apologize for getting a bit carried away. But I would like to point out that they’re on the other side of the mansion.”

“Another reason you don’t need the knife then! Honestly, I'd expect this behavior from Tirek then I would from you!”

The unicorn reluctantly lifted the knife away from the mare’s throat and sheathed it in her sleeve. She still held the thief down of course, but Rainbow Dash began to relax. She breathed easier knowing that she was likely going to live, not out of any mercy, but out of convenience. Regardless of the reason, not feeling the sharp edge of the knife against her throat was heavenly. 

“What should we do with her ma’am?” The unicorn asked, keeping the pressure on the mare's chest constant.

The gargoyle became confused for a moment. “What do you mean? Take her to the guardhouse and let them handle it.”

“But she might make a commotion.”

The gargoyle simply raised a brow at the statement. Surely, her trusted handmaid wasn’t losing her instincts. Her eyes narrowed as if Rarity was an unruly child who got a small laugh by being smart with her. “Then make sure she can’t do so.”

“Very well,” Rarity said with a sigh. She hated it when she had to resort to more brutish methods to do her work. Still, orders were orders, and she prided herself on being obedient.

Alarms began to blare in her head, but before Rainbow Dash could do anything, she was hit with a burst of magic, and everything went dark. When she finally woke, there was throbbing in her forehead that caused her a great of discomfort. “My freaking- Wait, where-!” She jumped out of the cot she had been sleeping in, throwing off the surprisingly warm and new looking blanket to find herself in prison robes and stuck in a small cell, behind thick iron bars. Her new clothes were bright colors, ranging from yellows and oranges, hideous things that no self-respecting mare would be caught dead in. At the very least, they were comfortable. 

From a high window, she saw that the night sky still lingered, with the overcast only partly gone. Before her sat the unicorn from earlier. There were no guards in the room with them, though she could hear voices coming from another room past a few rows of empty cells.

“Good to see you awake,” the unicorn said. Her face was expressionless. She seemed to be disinterested in the Pegasus now that she was in jail, and likely only stayed there to deliver a scathing insult from her mistress.

Rainbow Dash glared at the unicorn. “Where the hell is all my stuff!? How did I get into these clothes!?”

“I changed you into them. I wasn’t about to let a bunch of brutes dress you. As for your things, your equipment has been confiscated. I'm shocked you didn’t try using the daggers you had on you. Then again, I bet you thought I was some prissy mare that fainted at the mention of violence. Must have shocked you when you lost.”

Rainbow looked down at her chest and into her new shirt to see that her wound was bandaged. “Whatever,” she said, unwilling to admit that the unicorn had outclassed her. “You caught me off guard on a bad day! If I wanted, you’d be dead, and I’d be making off with my loot.”

“Let’s agree to disagree, shall we? Don’t be too mad though, you won’t be here long.”

“You bet I won’t! I’ll bust out of here in three days flat. Just you wait.”

“Again, we can agree to disagree,” The unicorn said with a smile. “If it helps, you'll actually get out in five days.” 

“Wait, really? Damn, you Arcanians has some lax laws here.” It should have been unsurprising as she wasn’t stealing much at the time. Plus, she was a mare, the guards probably saw her as a victim of circumstance. She would cry some, play the ‘pity me’ card and probably be let out in two days. She allowed herself a small smile as she laid back down on her cot to let her headache settle down. At worst, this was a minor time out.

“Oh, you poor thing, you think this is Equestria,” the unicorn whispered. “Darling, we need to clarify a few things. In five days, the moment the guards let you out, you get a choice between the noose or the axe.” 

A dark cloud began to form above Rainbow as a sinking feeling formed in the pit of her stomach. She sat up and gazed at the unicorn. “What?! But-but all I did was steal a few trinkets!”

“Consider it one of the many perks of breaking into the house of one of the most powerful families in all Arcania. I must be off, a lady needs her sleep after all,” Rarity said with a smile. “The guards will be by tomorrow to plan out your last meals. Don’t bother trying to pick the locks, you need three keys turned at the same time to open them. Oh, and if I were you, I’d chose the ax. Since you have wings, the executioner will likely break them if you chose the noose. It was a pleasure knowing you, darling, and please, feel free to try and seduce your way out of here. I can assure you any promises made are just pillow talk.”

Rainbow Dash watched as the unicorn left, humming a small tune to herself. The pegasus slammed her hoof against the iron bars as a pang of dread pierced her heart. If she couldn't escape, she was never going to see her friends again. More importantly, she was never going to see Wind Rider again, a stallion she owed much of her life to. Rainbow Dash fell back onto her cot as she formulated a plan to escape the cell in just five days, something that seemed utterly impossible to do. Little did she know that in only three days’ time, the unicorn that had gotten her thrown in jail would be the same person who would give her back her freedom.
> Kindle's Key
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was no day more loathsome than April the Sixteenth. Tirek awoke at around four in the morning, cursing the world for his numerous misfortunes. He was hoping to have himself and Spike ready to leave his mother’s mansion before dawn, mostly to avoid Rarity or Selina, the latter whom would cry as she begged for Spike to stay. He was in no mood for such things like crocodile tears (as he was never in any mood for inconveniences).

While Tirek would never care to admit it, he was more miserable today than he usually was. It didn’t help that no matter what anyone did, April the Sixteenth filled his nephew with sorrow. It irked Tirek that Spike was not feeling some false misery, such as a stubbed toe, a mild hunger, or a child in need of a nap, but true misery, something the boy not ought to know of just yet.

Though the centaur knew a great many things, he was ignorant of any way for him to truly help Spike. Not without he himself opening up that is. And if he did that, there was no way he could maintain a relationship with the boy. What depressed him further was knowing that there would always be a hole in the boy’s heart, partly because the centaur was a selfish lout. Perhaps it would shrink as he grew, but it would always be present.

Tirek let out a sigh as images of a pink dragoness flashed through his mind. Part of him desperately wished that Kindle were with him. She’d know what to do, she always knew what to do as far as Spike was concerned. It was likely because she was the exact opposite of him, sweet and gentle, with a honeyed voice and a sharp wit. He recalled how she took all her hardships in stride, never once complaining, crying, or feeling sorry for herself, at least not to anyone’s face. She had an uncanny ability to rise above such things, if not for her sake, then for the sake of her son. As far as Tirek was concerned, there was no better mother in the world than Kindle Solaris. Not that people like his mother could see that.

Tirek immediately banished the thoughts of Kindle from his head before the memory of his mother’s insult could sour his mood. Tirek was about to go and retrieve Spike when the space between his horns ignited with a dim light. He instantly recognized it as Sendak’s doing, as he trusted no one else, except Kindle, with direct contact. A mist seeped out of the aura, carrying with it several pieces of torn paper. They swirled about as they followed the stream of mist before coming together and forming a rolled-up scroll. Tirek scowled at the piece of paper, knowing from the ribbon and seal that it was not a letter from Sendak, but rather a letter from Scorpan sent through Sendak.

The centaur unrolled the scroll and gave it a quick readthrough. His blood began to boil, while at the same time he felt a great deal of relief. He himself would be able to forget about this miserable date, however, there was still a feeling of worry for his nephew. His usual plan was to have Spike study his hardest until he was so tired he was unable to keep his eyes open. However, with this letter from his brother, he wasn’t going to be able to make sure that happened. Instead, he would need to rely on his mother. Tirek shook his head as he imagined the heartache his Nephew would soon suffer.

The centaur made his way to his mother’s room and gave her door a gentle knock. The door opened, and Haydon glared at her son, her dark expression made even darker by the light of her candle. She looked horrid. Her hair was a complete mess, she had dark circles under her bloodshot eyes, and she looked about as miserable as Tirek felt daily. She’d gotten little sleep in the last few hours, mostly for what she said at dinner and how it hurt Spike, and partly because of Rarity’s encounter with the thief. Her mood was also not helped with the knowledge that it was April the Sixteenth, though she was mostly worried for Spike as she cared little for Kindle.

“Tirek, what do you need?” Her voice was low, and she said every word with a growl. Gargoyles tended to growl when annoyed, in hopes of frightening whatever was annoying them off. 

Tirek held out the scroll for Haydon. She read it as quick as she could, before smiling. She had been worried that Tirek would take Spike home early today, but now she would have Spike all to herself.

“There is a village in dire need of help, and you smile? Typical. So long as you get your way I suppose.”

“Oh, Tirek, I’m not smiling because of that. I’m just so proud that you’re jumping at the chance to help a village. The fact that I get to keep my grandson a few days longer is just a happy byproduct.” Haydon knew that the village had nothing to worry about now that Tirek was going to help. It was a town to the west of the city called Bishop’s Lake. There had been an infestation of parasprites, nasty little creatures that ate countless crops and other food. Normally, the beasts of the forests took care of their ever-expanding population, but they were adorable vermin. It was all too common for a small girl to try and keep one or two as a pet, which would allow it to reproduce indefinitely. 

While Bishop’s Lake had a few citizens that could normally handle the pest, an unfortunate event befell them. The parasprites had mistakenly bitten into and destroyed most of their instruments, and they now required the help of a mage. And, as it was well known, there was no greater mage in Arcania than Tirek. Tirek would make quick work of the vermin and would return in no time to pick up Spike. She hurried past her son and pulled on his wrist to follow. Tirek did so, but only after shutting his mother’s door. There was a slam so soft, that it echoed through the hall but carried no further. Unfortunately, it was powerful enough to awaken Spike.

The dragon crawled out of bed, rubbing his eyes as he went to investigate the noise. The room and hall were dark, but the parted clouds allowed for the moon’s light to seep into the mansion, allowing him just enough light to see. Spike snuck to the edge of the hall and waited. He heard murmuring downstairs, obviously his Grandmother and Uncle. They shifted from topic to topic, none of their musings interesting Spike in any meaningful way. He was just about to turn and go back to bed when something his grandmother said caught his attention. 

“You’re going to run him ragged. Don’t you think he should at least have today off?”

His uncle spoke up. “And have him do what? Ruminate on his mother, waste energy wallowing in pity? Today is the one day that he should keep his mind off her.”

“Tirek, you think every day is a day he should keep his mind off her.”

Spike furrowed his brow as his claws clenched. He already knew that his uncle and grandmother recalled the day of his mother’s departure, but it still burned him that they would sometimes play dumb. There was no point in confronting them about it, they would predictably deny it, or yell at him in his uncle’s case. The mere thought of his mother brought a small aching in his chest that he wished would cease. Wanting to remember fonder times, he silently marched to the western hall. It was darker there, so he felt his way until he came to the room near the end of the hall. Despite knowing it was a room he should avoid, Spike entered.

It was a pleasant, familiar room. Even in the dark, he could still make out everything. Golden yellow wall paper from Equestria covered the walls. There were two wardrobes, one on each side of the bed, from Griffon Stone, a vanity from the far-off kingdom of Anugypt that sat across the foot of the bed. Finally, hanging from the wall, above the bed’s canopy, was a portrait of the dragon lands. Mountainous, bleak, a bit terrifying, the portrait seemed to display a wasteland that only the condemned would travers. The only thing that all these items had in common was that they belonged to his mother. 

Before he was born, his mother would often travel to distant lands for his grandfather, and it was during this time she would pick up an amenity or two before returning home. She always told him that it was the dragon in her that drove her to collect such luxuries, urges she taught him to quell early in his life. (Being a dragon, these urges would sometimes spring up, but Spike was sure to squash them quickly with a little help from his uncle.)

Spike took a seat on the foot of her bed and let out a sniffle. Countless memories of his mother rushed into the forefront of his mind. They ranged from her telling him stories about fairies and dragons, to singing him soft lullaby’s when he had trouble falling asleep. Some memories were of her comforting Spike when he’d had a small nightmare or was harshly scolded by his uncle, who was then scolded by his mother. Finally, there were memories of her journeys. He would always wait at the front door for her return, and she always returned. 

The aching in his chest became more severe as tears began to well in his eyes. He crawled onto the bed and curled into a ball. “You didn’t come back,” he whimpered, wishing he had a picture of his mother to talk to. “You promised me that you’d be back before I knew it.” He named countless petty grievances he had with his mother in his head in a desperate attempt to feel anything that wasn’t sorrow, but nothing helped. Tears began to stream down his face as his soft sobs filled the room. “Where, why did you even have to go?” He asked, wishing the room could feel as warm as it once did. All he felt now was a bitter chill that hung in the air. As his sobs filled what remained of the night, Spike once again fell asleep.

It wasn’t until a lark sang that Spike woke up. His body ached, his eyes stung, and his head was spinning. He did his best to move but found himself only able to shift about. This was not do to any physical disability, he simply lacked the motivation to do much. He lay on the bed, gazing at the vanity thinking of what might happen over the course of the day. There was likely going to be a generous amount of arguing strewn throughout, accompanied by his usual routine. His uncle would yell at him, his grandmother would spoil him, Rarity would make sure to spend time with him, while Selina begged and whined for someone to tell her why everyone was acting so strange today.

It was only when he saw his mother’s key laying on the vanity that he sat up. A sudden wave of dread washed over Spike. If the key was out, then someone had gone through his mother’s things, possibly even stolen something. In a panic, he quickly grabbed the key undid the locks on both boxes. When he opened the jewelry box, a tune began to play. His mother often played it for him whenever he had trouble sleeping at night. It was this very reason that they called the song the Dragon’s Lullaby. He recalled that there were lyrics to the tune, but he’d long forgotten them. 

He went through each individual piece of jewelry and accessory, recalling who gave it to his mother or where she said she obtained it. He was relieved to find that everything, from necklaces to her hair accessories, were accounted for. Many would question why a dragon with no hair collected hair clips and other useless trinkets, but it was simply because Kindle liked collecting small charms whenever she traveled, especially when said trinkets were jeweled or sparkled. It was the dragon in her.

After locking everything once more, Spike fell to the floor and lightly chuckled to himself, embarrassed by his overreaction. He didn’t know what he expected to find missing. Rarity and his Grandmother had no need for his mother’s belongings. Perhaps he was just worried. Her trinkets were one of the few things he had left of her, and the thought of them going missing was unbearable. To think that seeing such a small key would make him worry so much. Perhaps this was why his family never let him near it.

He stared at the key for a short while until he came to a sudden realization. He was holding the key to his mother’s lockboxes, and her wardrobes. The only fathomable reason that it would have been left in the open was because someone left it on the vanity by mistake. Part of him thought to hurry to his grandmother, uncle, or even Rarity, and return it before he could get in trouble, however, another part of him advised against it. 

The key gave him the ability to go through his mother’s belongings, reminisce clearly about days before she left. He always did wonder what she kept in her wardrobes, as she nearly always kept them closed while he was up and about. It wasn’t as if he would be breaking any rules by looking. The contents in the wardrobes were technically his, as he was his mother’s only child. All his brothers and sisters were only half-siblings, sharing the same father, and so it stood to reason that anything and everything his mother owned was rightfully his. Of course, this all hinged on the mutterings of Tirek and Sendak, and their discussion of wills and what to do with Kindle’s belongings.

After a short debate, Spike decided on a compromise. Tonight, he would quickly look through the wardrobes and then return the key to either his grandmother or Rarity, claiming to have found it sitting out in the open, noticing it as he stumbled groggily. This would mean he would need to spend time in the room again. An easy thing to make happen. He did miss his mother after all, and the room did help with that feeling.

For now, he needed to keep the key hidden. The dragon gripped it close to his chest and quickly left for his room. It was mere luck that Rarity was still sleeping soundly, as she was normally up by this hour. What Spike couldn’t have known was that, had it not been for the unicorn’s trip to the prison late last night, she would have likely caught him coming out of his mother’s room. In fact, it was thanks to Rarity that he had even obtained the key. In her sleep deprived state, when putting away the jewelry that Rainbow Dash had stolen, she had mistakenly left the key on the vanity after redoing the locks on the boxes.

Spike heard his grandmother hum somewhere in the house but heard nothing from his uncle. He quickened his pace, worried the centaur might happen upon him. Spike came to his room, entered, and climbed into bed as fast as he could, hiding the key under his pillow. Not ideal, but it would have to do for now.

Not soon after the door opened. “Spike?” His grandmother asked, as she entered. Spike tensed as he slightly turned his body away from his grandmother. He heard her let out a sigh before feeling her sit on the edge of his bed. He felt her place her hand on his arm. “I understand if you don’t want to talk. I’d be cross with me to if I were you. I just get annoyed when it comes to your uncle and your mother. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said those things. You’re uncle’s probably right, she’s probably on her way home right now.” She gave his arm a slight squeeze before standing up. “Just rest okay? I love you, Spike.”

Though he knew that it was wrong to do so, Spike was infuriated by the apology. Part of him wanted to be angry with his Grandmother for what she called his mother, but it was just like her to apologize first thing in the morning. She didn’t even try to push his boundaries and basically ordered him to relax, knowing how miserable the day would be for him. It was nearly impossible for him to be mad at her.

Spike followed his Grandmother’s advice, not because she told him to, but rather because he wanted to and stayed in bed allowing himself to mentally prepare for the day. The air around him was unusually cool, making his blankets and mattress both warm and comfortable, almost lulling him into another bout of sleep. Not surprising as dragons often loved to sleep.

It was only when the smell of breakfast reached his room that Spike was stirred from his contentment. He could smell eggs, bacon, and even hints of pancakes. Spike quickly changed out of his sleepwear, and into his day clothes: a shirt and his scribe robe.

‘The key should be safe for now’ Spike thought as he left his room. His family had little reason to go through his belongings, if they did, well, he only prayed that it was his grandmother or Rarity that found it, and not his uncle. As Spike made his way to the dining hall, he wondered what he would find in the wardrobes. Clothes more likely than not, but he couldn’t help but wish for something of value, perhaps a clue to where she’d went, or why. ‘Like that would happen.’

He entered the dining room to see a bounteous feast waiting for him. His sister was already there with Rarity, both of whom ate pancakes drizzled in syrup. For him, there was a plate of eggs (sunny side up, his favorite), a few pieces of toast browned and given a dollop of butter, bacon, and a tall cup of juice. Rarity mean while enjoyed a cup of coffee, another beverage that Spike was averse to. His Uncle also despised the taste of coffee, and only drank it before heading out to talk with Spike’s father.

“Much too tired to deal with that bastard today,” Tirek would say as he grimly sipped from his mug. “I don’t know what’s worse, him or this swill.”

Rarity would tell Spike, when he echoed his uncle’s sentiment (he changed the language as not to offend), she would say, “I stayed up too late last night doing work is all. Need a little pick me up. And you should tell your uncle to buy kirin coffee beans. It’s much better than the mud that comes from Arcania or Equestria. Tastes heavenly.” Depending on the day, Rarity might add a pinch of milk or sugar to her drink, something that Spike thought that it needed much of.

The dragon took a seat, thankful that his uncle was nowhere to be seen, not out of spite, but because it meant more food for him. Before he could take a bite of his breakfast, Spike looked towards Rarity. Memories of last night played in his head, and he felt a twinge of guilt for the way he spoke to her. Worse, he worried that she’d taken it personally. While he had a right to be angry, his anger and sorrow was no excuse for such rude behavior, especially towards someone as kind as her. “Hey, Rarity, about last night-”

“Don’t fret, Spike,” she said, giving him a reassuring smile. “All is forgiven.”

“Thanks. By the way, I heard some loud noises last night, I didn’t know what it was but-”

“Oh, that was just me,” Rarity said, with a small giggle. “I saw a spider in my room and made a small ruckus. Fortunately, your Grandmother gave me a hand. You know how I get.” Seeing Spike almost instantly believe her made her both glad and disappointed. How shallow and pathetic was she that her being frightened by a spider was believable? At least it was better than the truth. She could only imagine how frightening it would be for him and Selina to know that their home was invaded.

“You know, if you ever need help, you could always get me,” Spike said, puffing out his chest. “Spiders are nothing to a dragon!”

Rarity rolled her eyes while Selina giggled to herself. Almost everyone Spike cared about knew he had a crush on Rarity. Selina normally liked to tease him about it, making kissy and mwah sounds every so often, usually when he bragged about himself in some way. This would normally result in Spike yelling at her, who would then be reprimanded by Rarity. Though she loved her brother, she relished the chance to tease him. Unfortunately, her Grandmother had ordered her to be as nice as possible to Spike today, so her teasing was out of the question. If she fell out of line, then she’d lose her new dress that Rarity had made.

“I know a mighty dragon such as yourself could handle those nasty things,” Rarity began, half joking, “but it was late, and I know your uncle. He was likely to have you up before dawn for some ungodly reason. Makes me thankful he’s gone for the next few days.”

“Wait, he’s gone?” Spike asked, almost standing in his seat.

“No one told you? I thought he would have woken you up and given you a list of demands, or at the very least your grandmother would have said something when she checked on you.” Rarity mentally shrugged before explaining to Spike what had happened earlier in the morning. “He’ll be back the day after tomorrow, barring anyone keeps one of the vermin. On the plus side, we get to keep you for a bit longer.”

“Oh.” Spike didn’t know exactly how to feel knowing that he’d be staying at his grandmother’s. Knowing he could spend time with Rarity excited him. Yet, for Tirek to leave today, there was a bit of anxiety growing in his chest. Rarity detected that something was amiss, and quickly went to give him a hug. 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be back before you know it.”

Spike smiled and seemed to nestle into her hug. Even Selina got up and joined in, though she didn’t understand it. She was thrilled to know that her uncle had left. Perhaps Spike was just too nice and didn’t know any better. 

Breakfast went quickly after Spike cheered up, and soon Rarity was collecting the plates and bringing them to the back to clean. Spike was about to go to his room and wait out the day, when his sister came up from behind him and gently tugged on his robe. Before she could even say what she wanted, Spike instantly remembered. He’d promised that after he finished studying, he would play with her the following day. Spike let out a sigh as he turned to his sister. 

“What do you want to play?” He asked, unable to think of an excuse not to keep his promise. There came an excited, high squeal as Selina grabbed her brother by the hand and led him through the mansion. Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise. He wanted time to pass quickly, and there was no doubt Selina had endless amounts of games waiting to be played. In fact, it may have very well been what she was naming as she dragged him through the mansion. All he would need to do was bear through everything until tonight.

They played hide and seek first, and then when Spike proved that he was better at it than her, despite letting his sister win a few rounds, they moved on to Snakes and Ladders. Spike was terrible at the game, as he had some of the worst luck in the world while playing it. After a string of losses, as his sister kept landing on ladders, Spike was just about to win during the fifth round, only 5 squares away from the top of the board, until his dice came up with snake eyes, and he landed on a snake that was tattooed with the word Pride. He was sent back to the tenth square near the start of the board. His sister, who had been lagging quite a bit behind her brother, landed on a ladder that was marked with the word Humility. She was taken up towards the eighty-fourth square. On Spike’s next turn he rolled a twelve, and subsequently landed on another snake marked wrath, sending him back to the second square. He swallowed a scream and handed the die off. After Selina rolled a twelve, Spike conceded the game and they moved on to play something else.

Their fun lasted until lunch time, where the children were treated to the leftovers from last night. The children did not complain though, as their grandmother could make even leftover’s delightful. Haydon managed this by cutting the steaks into thin strips, perhaps an eighth of an inch and drizzling a homemade sauce onto each one of them. After making sure each piece was coated nicely, she put them in a skillet that had rested on a flame for about a minute or two prior to the steak’s additions. It normally took no longer than three or five minutes for everything to be heated and served. There were no complaints from Selina, who was given the dessert that she missed the other night.

Haydon did not stay for long though. She disappeared as soon as they were served, going off into some other room. Under normal circumstances, Rarity would have said something to Spike, gently encouraging him to forgive Haydon. Rarity showed most loyalty to her employer after all, kind woman that she was. Perhaps too kind. Haydon wanted Spike to forgive her on his own terms and discouraged Rarity from interfering. Forgiveness was not forgiveness when coerced.

After lunch, Selina dragged Spike to the Library, where Spike read from several books, mostly about legends and fables, to entertain her. Part of him knew that there was likely something his uncle wanted him to do while he was away, but Spike could wait a day before starting. It was only when Rarity came to fetch them for dinner that they put their books away and went to the dining hall. Spike allowed himself a smile. He just had to make it through dinner, and he was home free. He would retrieve the key and go to his mother’s room to rummage through the things she left behind.

Haydon and Rarity came in and placed a similar meal from last night on the table. Fruit and a salad, some for them, mostly for Rarity, but there was something else that was brought out, a mustard glazed pork tenderloin. Spike’s mouth nearly fell open, as he leaned forward, tempted to spear the meat and steal it all for himself.

While forgiveness couldn’t be coerced, Haydon had no gripes about nudging him towards it with his favorite meal. Spike often wanted his grandmother to teach him, but she would always leave out a key ingredient or two, just to make sure he had to come back home when he wanted his favorite meal. Everyone was served in a matter of seconds, with Spike receiving a larger portion than everyone else.

The meal was mostly quiet, though the children ate happily and drank as much as they wanted. Rarity had brewed some tea earlier in the evening and added some honey and lemon to the pot. It was mostly for Selina’s benefit, but they didn’t mind. After they had eaten every speck of food and the tea pot had run dry, Selina retreated to her room, escorted by Rarity. The meal had made her a bit drowsy, and so, even though it was only about seven in the evening, it would not be long until the little gargoyle was snug in bed, dreaming of things that would no doubt put a smile on her face. 

Spike stayed behind to help his grandmother with the dishes. He would dry and put away what his grandmother washed and scrubbed. The atmosphere was thick as they did their parts, with Haydon looking between the dishes and Spike. “You’re being unusually quiet today,” Haydon said, hoping that Spike would speak to her. She received a half-hearted hmm in response. Her smile fell as a pang of sorrow began to spread through her chest, like a bucket being filled with too much water. “Spike I’m-” She fell silent as two arms wrapped around her lower body, and her Grandson’s head buried itself in her dress. “Thank you.” 

Spike returned to drying the dishes. “She left today,” he said, hoping that she would talk about it with him.

Haydon looked down, her eyes shutting as she tried to control a spark of rage. “She did. I can’t imagine how that must feel for you. Spike, you know I love you, right?”

“I know, I just miss her. I know you don’t like her, but it still sucks! Selina talks about her mom, and Dad, like they’re the best things in the world, and I get Uncle Tirek.” 

“Spike, I know your uncle isn’t the kindest person in the world, he’s overbearing at times, and he doesn’t even attempt to smile, but I know for a fact that he loves you. He just has trouble saying it. And before you say it, I know he pushes you too hard, but that’s just his own, very special way of letting you know he want’s what’s best for you,” Haydon said, trying to keep the conversation positive.

“That’s what mom always said.” Spike could feel his stomach knot as he readied his next question, knowing that it was going to violate her trust. “Grandma, this might sound strange, but can I stay in her room tonight?”

Haydon froze for a moment. “You want to stay in your mother’s room? Why? It’s so musty in there.”

“I just think, maybe it’ll feel like she’s still around.”

Haydon chewed the inside of her cheek as she mulled over the request. Was it the right thing to do? They had just had someone break into that very room, though Rarity assured her that the only reason it happened was because it was empty, surrounded by empty rooms, a ripe spot for a thief to enter. What happened if it made him feel worse as the night went on? Though not the best thing, she could comfort, maybe even coddle him a bit, and lightly suggest avoiding the room. Perhaps, if it would help Spike, she could talk about Kindle, maybe have a long discussion about her, in plain terms. She felt sick to her stomach just thinking about that conversation. Perhaps, this was a chance to do some good for Spike, and if he wanted to talk about Kindle the next day than perhaps it was time for her, them, to unpack that together. 

“I’ll let Rarity know you’ll be sleeping there tonight,” Haydon said, after carefully considering her options. “Just make sure that you’re the one that makes the bed. She may be my handmaid, but that’s no excuse to be rude.”

Spike smiled and gave his grandmother another hug. Yet, despite his joy, he couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty. After all, a lie by omission was still a lie.

After drying the last dish and utensil, Spike helped his Grandmother put everything away. When the last cabinet was closed, he left for his room while Haydon went to check on Selina. His sister would keep his Grandmother busy for a time, allowing him to get the key to his mother’s room safely. 

Making sure his door was closed, Spike took the key out of its hiding place and put it in his robe’s inner pocket. It would remain there until he came to his mother’s room and hid it again. He left his room, taking with him his favorite pillow, and made his way towards the west hall. He came to his mother’s room, only for the door to swing open revealing Rarity. She seemed panicked for some reason, something that worried Spike.

“Spike?” She asked, surprised to see him. “What are you doing with a pillow?” 

“I asked Grandma if I could stay here tonight. It makes me feel like mom is still around,” Spike answered, truthfully. There was no point in him hiding that information, as his grandmother would no doubt confirm it.

“Oh, I see. Well, have a nice night then.” Rarity was satisfied with the answer, continued on her way. “Oh, Spike, do you know where your Grandmother is? I need to chat with her.”

“She’s with Selina-”

“Thank you!” Rarity hurried to the eastern hall and rushed into Selina’s room. 

Selina was snug in her bed, in her night gown, with Haydon recounting a tale from her younger years. The elder gargoyle lifted a finger, directed towards Rarity, signaling for the mare to give her a moment so she could finish her story. She was recounting the time she met her late husband, and Selina was enthralled. Not surprising, as the girl adored romance stories of all types. By the time She had finished her tale, Selina was sound asleep, clutching her toy dragon close as her breath raised and lowered the covers.

Haydon gave Selina a kiss on the forehead and left the room with Rarity in tow. “What is it? Did Spike need me?”

“No,” Rarity responded. She swallowed a growing lump in her throat, and suddenly blurted out, “I lost the key to Kindle’s room!”

A sudden chill fell across the hall as Haydon, without turning to face her handmaid. Pointed to a random door. “Get in there now.” Rarity did as commanded and Haydon followed, shutting the door behind her. “You lost the key?” She asked, glaring at the unicorn.

“Well I thought I put it away last night, but I think I was so sleep deprived that I made up a memory of doing so. I retraced my steps everywhere! I searched in Kindle’s room, my room, the foyer, I would check the guard house, but you only gave me the key after I returned so-”

“Give me a moment!” Haydon demanded. She began to pace the room, muttering to herself. It was too much of a coincidence for the key to go missing and to have Spike want to sleep in Kindle’s room that very same night. “Go to Spike’s room and search everywhere! I need to have a talk with my Grandson.”





“Where is it?” Haydon asked, throwing the door to Kindle’s room open.

Spike sat at the vanity, reading a storybook from his mother’s bookshelf. There were countless other books but most of them were things that disinterested the dragon. “Where’s what?” He asked, looking at his grandmother through the mirror. He knew she meant the key, but he had to stay calm. Any hint that he had it would surely cost him dearly when his uncle returned.

Her glare only hardened. “Spike, look me in the eye. Where is it?”

Spike took a small, almost unnoticeable breath, turned around, and looked his grandmother square in the eye. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fine, I guess it’s the hard way. Give me your robe, now!” Haydon began to go through the punishments she could rain down upon her grandchild when she found the key in his possession. Dessert? Gone. Leisure time? Tirek would seem merciful compared to her. Rarity? She would need to take a paid vacation the next time he came over. 

Spike stood up, slipped off his robe, and handed it to his grandmother, keeping a cool demeanor about him. His grandmother rummaged through his pockets and found nothing. She looked under the bed, the wardrobes, the vanity, in the vanity draw, the pillow cases, under the mattress and under the pillows. Finally, when she pulled back the covers she found a Romance novel that no boy should be reading.

“Spike, what on earth is this?!” She cried. 

“It was mom’s favorite book,” Spike explained. “I thought I would read it later tonight. She said I could when I was older. I thought since it’s been nine years-”

“You need to be a lot older for this!” Haydon shouted. She put her hand over her mouth and took a deep breath. “Spike, I’m sorry if I seem emotional, but I need to know, do you have your mother’s key?”

“Wait, did you lose her key?” Spike asked. He seemed to become saddened as he looked toward his mother’s jewelry box. “So, if I wanted to listen to that song later tonight, I can’t?”

“It seems so, but it’s not lost just misplaced. I’m sure Rarity will find it later. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I thought that, since you wanted to-” Haydon shook her head. “I’m sorry.” Before leaving, she took the book and put it back on the shelf. “You are not allowed to read any of those!” She warned.

Spike nodded, and Haydon left after telling him how much she loved him. How foolish was she for thinking that spike could be so disobedient? Perhaps Rarity had left the key somewhere so meaningless and unimportant, that neither of them had thought of it just yet. She was silly to doubt him, absolutely silly. She closed the door behind her, leaving Spike alone.

The moment the door shut, Spike let out a soft sigh and fell to his bottom. The fact that he’d stayed in control was nothing short of a miracle, though he did feel guilty for lying to his Grandmother. Not to mention the trouble he’d likely gotten Rarity into. Thanking the heavens for his fortune, he quickly took a few books from their resting place on the shelf and took the key from its hiding place. It was a trick his mother had inadvertently taught him when hiding small letters that she never sent off with a courier. No one ever thought to look behind the books on a bookshelf. Then there was the novel that he had no interest in reading. Haydon wanted to find something, so Spike made sure that she had something to find.

Spike blew out his candle and waited until the light in the hall had vanished, signaling that Rarity had gone to sleep. In the time that he waited, there was no yelling that he could hear, so it was likely that there was little conflict outside a stern warning to find the key. Once he was certain that no one would catch him, Spike lit his candle and made his way towards the left wardrobe. Taking a deep breath, he inserted the key and gave it a turn.
> A Small Act of Disobedience
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spike gave the key a turn and the wardrobe unlocked without making a sound. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened the doors. Much to his shock, sitting behind a chest, was his mother’s shield. The outer rim was a light bronze, while the inner metal was varying shades of blue. His mother constantly kept it out of his reach when he was younger, only ever allowing him to hold it when she was with him. He reached out and traced his fingers over the shield’s surface. There was something nostalgic about seeing the relic again. If he recalled it correctly, his mother called it the Tortoise Shield, though the shape of it was more akin to a sea turtle’s shell. His uncle, for some reason or another, referred to it as the heretic’s weapon, and often chided his mother for having it.

Next, Spike turned his attention towards the chest. The metal outlines were gleaming silver, while the wood was stained dark. There was also a very small plaque with his name carved into the metal. Spike felt tears well up in his eyes. It warmed his heart to know that, even though she had left, his mother still thought of him. Spike quickly undid the chest’s latches and threw open the lid. There were several articles of clothing: new boots, a pair of odd gloves, a dark cloak and hood, a belt, and a long-sleeved tunic. He dug deeper and found three small bags, one of Arcanian Dran, one of gems, and one filled with gold shekels. Useful for when he was older, bit meaningless as of now. There was also a aged book. Skimming through the book, he found that it only contained a short section detailing the shield. Part of him was expecting something that could give him a clue to where she went, but there was nothing of the sort. No map, letter, or even a scrap of paper. Perhaps he was not meant to find out, at least not yet.

With his curiosity satisfied, he shut the doors and moved on to the second wardrobe. Like the first, it unlocked without making a sound, and he swung the doors open. Inside hung several dresses. They were almost all haphazardly put away, jammed together, with only one that was hung with the utmost care. This was his mother’s favorite dress. It was cream colored with white going down the center chest. Along the skirt were several red bows neatly tied and stitched into the fabric. The sleeves were wide, and the was a gold trim to them. Though no one could see it, there was even a space cut out in the back for her tail.

He remembered that she usually wore it on her birthday, as it was on that day, decades ago that she received such a fine gift. While wearing it, Kindle would softly hum a tune, and admire herself in the mirror, before closing her eyes and swaying to and fro, as if she were dancing with someone. The few times Spike caught her doing such odd things, Kindle’s faced turned red for a moment, before she stopped and tended to her son.

With his gaze leaving the dress, Spike looked towards a second chest resting at the bottom of the wardrobe. Sealing it closed were two latches, which Spike easily undid, though he did feel a bit tired after doing so. Perhaps after rooting around in the chest, he would snuggle under the covers and go to sleep. 

Spike found countless drawings of him ranging from his egg all the way until he was five. There was even one picture of his uncle holding him when he was but an infant, sleeping and swaddled in blankets. At the bottom of the chest was set of three diaries and a bound stack of unopened letters. The letters were all addressed to members of his family and stamped shut with a wax seal, save for him. Tirek by far had the most, with five in total. Three were addressed to Sendak, two to his grandmother, and one was for his father. He considered opening them, but quickly decided against it. 

The letters were none of his business, and he himself would be quite if his uncle had done anything like that to him. However, her diaries were a different story. Unfortunately, two of them were locked, and the key he had would not open them. The last was just a normal book, and so Spike quickly skimmed its contents. All of the entries were about him in some way or another. One entry he found interesting was about his uncle.

Tirek simply can’t hold Spike without him wriggling and whimpering. Before I knew it, he was rushing the poor dear back into my arms. That silly centaur thinks he’ll drop him! He’s much to careful to do something like that though. He’ll get comfortable holding him in time. If he works on his smile, so will Spike. 

Spike couldn’t help but smile. It was just like his mother to give his uncle of all people the benefit of the doubt.

There wasn’t much else, aside from an old ticket for a play and an aged sketch of a young centaur (why there was such a picture was an utter mystery to Spike), and lastly, there was a folded piece of paper, tied with a string, with his uncle’s name on it. It couldn’t be another letter, it lacked a wax seal like the others had. Curiosity got the better of him, and Spike quickly undid the binding, and unfolded the paper. What he found was a small map of the entire continent and, near the northern tip, was a circle marked Tambelon with a short note written at the bottom reading ‘Tirek, show Sendak’.

Let it be said that Spike was never meant to find this map. Had fate been kind to Spike and his family, he never would have even found the key. The chest itself was only ever meant for Kindle’s closest friends to open. She had been to several mages, from centaurs to ponies, to craft an enchantment so that only someone like Tirek could open it. If she could have foreseen that Spike would have been able to open it so easily, perhaps she would have settled for a lock and key.

The dragon fell short of breath as his hands began to tremble. For years, he’d only known that his Mother had ‘left’. No one in his family had ever said anything more than that. But now? Now he had a location: Tambelon. But what was Tambelon? Did it really matter though? He had a where, and for that, he felt relieved. But why did she need to leave for Tambelon? He doubted his uncle or even his Grandmother would tell him, even if they knew. Sendak? No, he was never one for talking about such things. 

‘I could ask him,’ Spike suddenly thought to himself. ‘Father would know.’ The idea of visiting his father filled him with equal parts fear, dread and a small twinge of excitement. His uncle and his grandmother had forbade him from even asking to visit his father’s estate, and for good reason. Yet, fate had kicked up a storm of coincidences. His uncle would be gone, and Selina would be picked up by Sendak tomorrow morning. However, such thoughts would best be saved for tomorrow.

Spike closed the wardrobe, and refolded the map, hiding it in his mother’s journal. He then hid his new books among the ones on the book case. The key was re-hidden amongst the last book and he quickly darted off into bed. Feeling unusually tired, sleep came quicker than expected, and the comfort he felt under the covers helped carry him off into a pleasant dream.

The next morning, a loud knocking came at his door, stirring Spike from his sleep. “Come in,” he said, sitting up in his bed and rubbing his tired eyes. Rarity hurried in with a fresh change of clothes, putting them at his side.

“Change quick, your grandmother is making breakfast,” she urged.

Spike did as he was told, though he stared out into space, thinking about what the day would bring. ‘Sendak’s coming,’ He thought to himself. His mind was a battlefield of conflicting thoughts. The most prevalent urged him to stay in the safety of his home and wait until he was older before asking questions. ‘Not yet. Soon, but not yet,’ they urged him. Perhaps he was being a bit foolish. It was a long journey to his father’s after all, and anyone, at any moment, could have a change of heart, assuming he somehow managed to leave with permission.

‘Why do you need permission? They don’t need to know you left,’ another, darker voice said. ‘Just head out the back door and follow Sendak. It’s like in the book mom used to read you about the hunchback, it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Besides, who would you rather make mad? Uncle Tirek, when you’re a young man or Grandmother, while she still sees you as a child?’ 

Breakfast was eaten without him saying much, though he ate more than his fair share of it. The most vocal was Selina, as the poor girl let out sniffles and whines, whimpering how she didn’t wish to leave just yet. Haydon and Rarity did their best to comfort her, and the food helped. It was difficult to be too miserable when eating a wonderful breakfast prepared by a loving grandmother. Spike could understand his sister’s sorrow all too well. He also disliked leaving his Grandmother’s, something that he was going to have to do once Tirek returned. 

‘And once that happens, you’ll probably never get to visit Father. Let this slip by, and you’ll never have another chance.’ A voice whispered into his ear. Spike took a deep breath, admitting that today would be the only day he would have a chance to see his father, and formulated a small, risky plan in his head.

Breakfast was soon finished, and Spike went upstairs. He made his mother’s bed and, though he was at risk of getting caught, drew out the cloak from the wardrobe before shutting it. He went to his room and put the garment on his bed before joining Rarity, who was helping Selina pack her things. The little gargoyle was still pouting, but Spike assured her that the next time they were together, they would play all sorts of games.

By the time Selina’s bags were packed, and everyone was gathered in the main hall, there came a tap on the door. It was Sendak, who looked awfully tired. Though the centaur was old, older than Haydon by a century and a half, he still had an air of youth about him. However, today he moved much slower than normal, and he seemed to rely on his staff to keep from falling over.

“Good heavens, Sendak! Are you alright?” Haydon asked, hurrying to her friend’s side.

“Yes, yes, just a little drained,” he explained. “Elric and I were up at odd hours in the night, practicing magic. The boy was quite insistent that I make up for the time he’ll lose today.”

There was a mumble from Rarity, who rolled her eyes at the mention of Elric. Haydon turned and raised a brow, as Elric, however rude, was still her eldest grandchild.

“Is something wrong, Haydon? Oh, did you think I was speaking ill of Elric? No, no, no!” Rarity assured, though it was obvious she was fibbing. “I was just thinking that, perhaps in light of things, we should have Master Sendak sit down and rest for a short while! Maybe brew him some tea? I know he loves white, and he certainly seems like he could use a treat or two. Wouldn’t you agree, Spike?”

“Of course! I’m sure if he were here, even Uncle Tirek would agree.” Tirek would indeed agree with Rarity, but only after belittling his eldest nephew for a mishap that would dare require a Sage such as Sendak to exert himself.

Sendak stroked his white beard. It was too tempting a proposition to decline, aside from being terribly rude for doing so. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I could have just a small snack before departing. Some tea would do me some good as well. The cooks that Scorpan employs, they’re no Spike, or Haydon for that matter.”

“No trouble at all, come in!” Haydon nearly dragged Sendak into her home, before having Rarity prepare the meal for them. The unicorn brought up jam and bread, biscuits, some white tea after it was brewed, and a small plate of cookies for Spike and Selina, the latter overjoyed to have her departure delayed by a few minutes. Haydon and Sendak discussed many topics, from Spike and Tirek to even Kindle, though Sendak knew the ire Haydon had towards the dragoness. Afterwards, the old sage began talking about Vorak, Haydon’s beloved, late husband, and soon became lost in his musings.

“I remember when Vorak said that he was courting you,” Sendak recalled, his eyes closed, “I thought the bull had lost his mind, ‘Haydon Highferia?’ I cried out. ‘My student, you are very kind, virtuous and wise, but you’re thinking with your eyes and not your brain!’” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head while smiling contently.  “Spike, Selina, do the two of you know about your grandmother when she was younger?”

“Oh, I know, I know! Grandma said that on their first date, Grandpa proposed, saying that she was the woman he was going to marry! And grandma, she knew she was going to marry him to, but she wanted to wait,” Selina said, excitably bouncing in her seat. It was one of the most romantic stories she’d ever heard, and Selina loved all things romantic. Her personal favorite fairytale of all was Beauty and the Beast.

“She was very proper,” Spike added. “Never went outside, rarely drank, and usually had her nose in a book. Even at parties, she tried to disappear into the background. I think she said that Grandpa spotted her and pestered her for her name until she mumbled it to him. They had their first date the next night.”

“I see,” Sendak said looking skeptically at Haydon, who lowered her head as her cheeks turned red.

Perhaps I should take a moment to explain. Before she became Mrs. Vorak Arcanous, Haydon was Haydon Highferia, only child of Mr. and Mrs. Hartford Highferia. And, as most everyone in Arcania knew, you could never find a finer, nor richer, lady than a Highferia daughter. They were everything ladies should be on the surface: Beautiful, intelligent, sophisticated, wonderful cooks, and quiet. They ate like ladies and certainly looked and acted as ladies should, but there was something that wasn’t quite ladylike about the Highferia daughters. In truth, anyone born with the name Highferia seldom wanted to be ladies or gentlemen. They instead wanted to be adventurers.

I will not waste time describing how the women were forced to be proper, because they were not. If a Highferia wanted to leave their home and go on an adventure, they would do so, forcing their families to lie weeks or months at a time. What annoyed their fathers the most would be having to deny any lord or duke that sought a wife for themselves or their sons a chance to meet with their daughters. 

“She’s a bit under the weather, perhaps you can come back another time,” They would say. “Good day to you.”

It was most unfortunate that Haydon was no different in her youth, save for the fact that she was no lady. The gargoyle forewent dresses, choosing to wear robes normally found on males, unless she was at a party. Not to say she behaved herself. Haydon drank to her heart’s content, insulting anyone that annoyed her, and flirted with several men, leading them on before smashing their hearts.

In her twenties, which was an extremely young age for gargoyles, Haydon explored her country to its edge, only returning home when she wished to have a few free meals and to lay about for a few days. The price she paid was a good scolding from her father. 

Knowing she would leave again in just a few short weeks gave him little time to find a groom. Even when he could convince a suiter to ask for Haydon’s hand, his daughter would send them away almost instantly. Some were too pigheaded for her tastes, others were more interested in her dowry and inheritance, which included her family’s entire estate, and the rest were some combination of the two.

Fortunately, for Haydon at least, on the rare occasions that her father dragged her to a temple to marry, at least three priests would ask Haydon one thing in private: “Is it your will to marry this man?” Marriage is a sacrament in the land of Arcania, and as such, individuals needed two things: A priest, a man of the gods, and consent from all parties, including the bride. Haydon was more than happy to share her view of the groom with all three priests. The priests would then scold her for using such unbecoming language in a temple. In no time at all, she would walk out of the temple, change her clothes, and then leave for another adventure, leaving a snide note for her father to find.

Of course, this soon faded after meeting her late husband Vorak, who was the only person that, at the time, Haydon described as tolerable. And, after marrying him and becoming pregnant with Tirek, her life became her children. As of today, she couldn’t help but be embarrassed at her younger self. She often painted a picture of a learned young girl who was obedient and respectable, never indulging in silly things like adventure. In fact, as far as anyone but Sendak and Vorak knew, she detested adventures and journeys like a priest detested greed, lust, and other such sins.

Not wanting to embarrass such an old friend, Sendak moved on to merrier topics, and after a half-hour, he seemed to revert to his old lively self. “I do thank you for the tea and treats, Haydon, but I must be going now. Hilda is anxious for Selina’s return, you know how her mother often get.”

“I understand but do try and come by more often! I want you around for another century, and seeing you so lively, maybe I should cook you a dinner every now and again. For all the work you do for my family, you certainly deserve it!”

The praises lifted his spirit and the temptation of a well-cooked meal made him as giddy as a drunk. “Certainly!” He said. “If it would be alright with you, how about two weeks from tomorrow? I could even get Spike and Tirek to come along. It’s difficult for that man to say no when I ask something of him.”

“That would be wonderful! I’ll have Rarity set the date. Come, we’ll see the two of you out,” She said. Haydon stood and led Selina and Sendak to the entrance hall, followed by Spike and Rarity. “I love you, my sweet bambino,” She said giving the little gargoyle a kiss on the forehead. Spike quickly gave his sister a hug, and a small kiss on the cheek, before Rarity also said her goodbyes. Selina took Sendak’s hand, while her bags were placed on his back, and the pair began their journey home.

The door shut, and Spike didn’t hesitate to ask his grandmother a question he’d been holding in all day. “Grandma, can I go out into the garden for a bit? I could use some fresh air.”

“Of course, Spike. You needn’t ask. You have fun, Rarity will fetch you if either of us need anything.”

Spike nodded, scurried up to his room, slipped on his new cloak, and adjusted the hood so that it covered the top of his spines. Hopefully the cloak would allow him to blend into the crowd whilst following Sendak until he was close enough to his father’s home where he could reveal himself without much risk of being sent home immediately. There was still a chance he would be dragged home, though Spike would worry about that later. He left through the back door of the mansion, circled around to the front, and ran after Sendak. It didn’t take long for him to catch up, Sendak never hurried someplace unless he needed to. 

Spike, keeping his head down, kept the pair in his sight, making sure never to draw too close unless needed. When they were about a fourth of the way to Scorpan’s, Sendak suddenly took a sharp left and travelled down an empty alley. Spike did the same and heard Selina asking a myriad of questions, only for Sendak to whisper into her ear. She giggled some and began to excitedly hop up and down when they came to a stop.

Sendak suddenly cried in a booming voice, “Come out now, and make it easier on yourself! I will not be asking again!”

Spike ducked behind a nearby barrel. Spike prayed that Sendak was bluffing, but the dragon knew that there was no such chance. Sighing, he drew back his hood and made his way towards the pair. Almost instantly, his sister trapped him in a tight hug, while Sendak glared at him.

“Spike, there had better be a good explanation for following us!” Sendak declared.

“It’s because he’s coming with us, right Sendak? Is he? Can he please come with us?”

“Selina, not now!” Sendak demanded, using his staff to separate the two. Selina fell silent, but only after grumbling objections to herself.

Spike, unable to make eye contact asked, “How did you even-”

“When the masses whisper amongst themselves, ‘but where’s Tirek’, there is only one person in the world they could be talking about. Now answer me, child!”

“Well, I thought that I’d come with you and say hello to Father and-”

Sendak’s eyes grew wide before narrowing. If there was ever a rule that was held above all others, it was that Spike was never to visit Scorpan. “Silence!” Sendak ordered, slamming the bottom of his staff on the ground. Though it was likely just his imagination, Spike could have sworn that the earth shook and the staff’s slam echoed into the far reaches of the country. “Spike, I have heard some foolish things in my day, but this? I loathe to think of what consequences come from such an idea! I am returning you home, and I hope to the gods that Tirek never finds out about this!”

“Wait, Sendak, please,” Spike begged, “I need to talk with Father, it’s about Mom!”

“What’s so important about mama? Oh, did you find out she’s-!”

“Selina,” Sendak interrupted, “Spike and I need to talk in private. I apologize in advance.” Sendak’s aura lifted the bags and placed them next to the small gargoyle. He took a breath and circled the head of his staff with his hand, muttering a chant as two lights, one between his horns, and one on the top of his staff, began to glow warm. 

Selina looked at the centaur quizzically, but soon recognized the spell as Warp. A ring of light had surrounded her, making it impossible for her to escape. Selina recalled that, once the ring of light was conjured, another would appear in a place the caster was familiar with. The contents inside the first ring would then appear in the second. “That’s not fair!” She cried, stomping her foot on the ground in protest. There was a flash, and Selina vanished.

Sendak’s legs gave out from under him. The centaur gripped his staff for dear life as his body began to tremble. “Blasted dragon,” He whispered to himself. He’d had used up nearly everything he had casting that spell and would soon need to rest and eat in order to recover. Spike quickly helped Sendak steady himself. “Boy, I can tell you all you need to know about your mother,” He said with a heavy breath, eyes now tired and struggling to stay open, “no one else, especially your father, need be involved!”

Spike seemed to grow a bit of courage upon hearing the last part, though it was likely spurred by the fact that it wasn’t Tirek he was talking to. “Fine. Why did she leave?”

“Spike, Tirek must have told you! It was because your father needed-”

“No, I know he needed her to ‘do something’, I’m asking what that something was!” Spike shouted, interrupting the centaur. “Why did he ask her?! What was so important that she had to leave?! I have a right to know, she’s my mom!”

“You little-She was-I-!” Sendak struggled to think of a retort but became flustered. For one moment, there was a fire in Spike’s eyes and a sharpness to his voice that truly did make the young drake seem like his mother. In fact, had he not been looking at the dragon, he would have sworn that he was talking to Kindle herself.

As for the question posed by young Spike, Sendak was completely ignorant. Only a few people knew, including Tirek. Tirek would take that knowledge to his grave. Sendak knew where she went, but he thought it to be unimportant as far as Spike was concerned. Yet, despite knowing Tirek would be furious with him, Sendak had to agree that Spike had a right to know why she left. He could only imagine how much the lingering questions gnawed at the back of his mind. 

In a soft voice he said, “I cannot deny that Kindle was, and is, your mother. Very well, in the name of your mother, I will take you with me, but do not think I won’t tell your grandmother and uncle everything! We are both betraying their trust, and we both will receive a swift and harsh punishment for it.”

“It’ll be worth it,” Spike said, though part of him was worried about what his grandmother would say once he returned home.

“Will it be?” Sendak asked, his eyes narrowing. “I can’t say that attitude doesn’t worry me a bit. But, if that’s true, then it appears Tirek must treat you far kinder than most. Personally, I shudder to imagine what your uncle will do when he finds out about this. Come, let us make this mistake so that we can then put your mind at ease.” Sendak and Spike began moving again, this time side by side, with the sun still high. “I do hope you understand what it is you’re trying to do,” Sendak said, after a short while, crossing a stone bridge that spanned a brook.

“I know,” Spike said with a sigh. He looked down at the ground as a pit began to form in his chest. “But, if I don’t try I’ll never know! What am I supposed to do, Sendak? Stay locked in my room reading textbooks, pretending that she’s coming home?”

“I suppose not but-” Sendak put a hand on Spike’s shoulder, “-Spike you need to understand that your situation is complicated.”

“I’m not stupid, I know why everyone tells me to avoid Father.” Spike’s breath hitched as his fists clenched and his body trembled. “As far as far as anyone’s concerned, I’m Uncle Tirek’s ward.”

“I see.” Sendak let out a sigh as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. He pondered as to why was Spike so intent on doing this. A year ago, Spike wouldn’t have done anything without permission, yet now, he was wishing to break the most important rule there was. Worse, he himself was helping the dragon. If he wasn’t as wise as he was, Sendak would have sworn that they both had a bit of Human in them, as what race was better at breaking rules? “Might I ask what spurred you into action?” Sendak asked. “It’s been eight years, Spike. Why now?” Spike remained silent, staring at the road. “Your uncle, as much as he looks like your Grandfather, is more Haydon’s son. They both have big mouths when angered. I suppose something happened between them? Did Tirek say something that-” 

“It was Grandma. She called Mom a whore, and said she abandoned me,” Spike admitted. He said nothing else, but instead hurried along, determined to discover what Tambelon was.

“Oh, Haydon,” Sendak muttered, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry, Spike. I beg that you don’t hold it against her. Your grandmother, she loves you, more than anything. There are no doubts in my mind that not even this will change that. Your parents though, your mother especially, they did things that she couldn’t quite forgive. Kindle leaving, well, it was too much for her. Haydon’s never been able to let it go.”

“Did she always hate Mom?” Spike asked. “I know she says she never means it, but it’s not like I can tell if she’s lying.”

“I shan’t lie, while she does hate her, it’s relatively new. Spike, understand that the hatred she has towards your mother, that’s all it is, hatred towards Kindle. I can’t say for certain whether she’s justified in that. However, I do think Haydon is wrong about one thing, your mother would never abandon you. Kindle made many mistakes, did many things wrong, but she loved you above all else. Whatever she did, why she left, I’m more than certain she was thinking of you when she did it.”

The sentiment lifted Spike’s spirits a bit, and the drake formed a small smile. They traveled in silence for a short while, each likely contemplating what was going to happen once they reached their destination. Sendak was mostly worried about how he was likely going to be shunned by Haydon for weeks and cursed at by Tirek upon his return. Spike, who was mostly focusing on his father, was worried how the gargoyle might react. The only time, of which there were three in total, he’d been to his father’s home, it was when Scorpan was off on holiday and Tirek desperately needed to talk with Sendak about books and other such matters. The silence was finally broken by Spike, as another question crept into his mind. “What do you think about her, mom I mean?”

“I won’t lie, I was bitter for a better part of a year when she left. Before that, shocked when I found out she had you. Though, when it's all said and done, I remember her fondly, so very fondly.” There was no smile on him, nor was there any hint of anger. Sendak closed his eyes, reminiscing about the young Dragoness he’d found some decades ago, as a single tear rolled down his cheek.

“Sendak, do you remember what color her eyes were?” Spike asked, remembering the question that had plagued him only two nights ago.

“Dark green,” He responded, “though I suppose I can’t expect you to remember, you were so young when she left, so don’t feel horrid about it. Your mother wouldn’t hold it against you.” Sendak looked up and saw their destination looming in the distance. “We’re close,” He said, warning Spike. “There’s still time to turn back.” Spike shook his head. “Very well. Keep your questions short with your father, and if he asks you to wait, you wait. No arguing. Once you have your answers, I’m taking you home. If things get heated between you and, well, anyone, I’m taking you home. If he refuses to talk, he refuses to talk, and-”

“You’ll take me home?”

Sendak’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, but I must ask you not interrupt me while I speak. That was one of the few things I wish your mother had done less of, and I don’t want you picking up her habits.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s quite alright.” A pit formed in Sendak’s chest as the shadow of a castle fell over the two. “Ready yourself, Spike, we have arrived.”

Spike felt his stomach fall as he stared up at Arcanous Castle, home of his father, King Scorpan.
> The Hall of the Gargoyle King
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spike swallowed a growing lump in his throat as both he and Sendak approached the castle gates. Several archers and guards stood atop the walls patrolling the perimeter, while four hulking gargoyles manned the cranks that would lift the now opened iron gate. Finally, stationed before the gates, stood two more gargoyles, both holding a spear and shield. 

“Let me do the talking,” Sendak whispered to Spike. “If there’s one thing I have, it’s status and recognition. Fortunately for us, if that’s not enough, we have your uncle’s name to rely on.”

The guards stood at attention and straightened themselves. 

“‘Bout time you returned, Master,” The first gargoyle said. “Queen’s cross with ya, sending the little princess here without any type of supervision. Perhaps if ya hurry, you can explain yaself before she gets the king gets involved. He’s fond of his youngest, he might fire ya for this.” 

“I wouldn’t want that to happen,” Sendak said, though he knew it to be an empty threat. Sendak had been serving the royal family for over a century, so the likelihood of being fired was low. If he was, he was in good standing with many magic academies and colleges, so finding work wouldn’t be terribly hard. Still the queen worried him. If she were to see Spike, then it was likely that he would lose his head, or at least have his ears yelled off. “If you’d let me pass, I’ll be sure to make my presence known to the Queen immediately and ask forgiveness.”

“I’d like to do that, but before I can permit ya, I need to know who that runt with ya is. Never seen a dragon ‘ere before.”

“Wait,” The second guard pipped up, remembering a dragon that he saw long ago, when his face was still fresh around the castle, “does he belong to that pink dragon? I recall she worked for the King, she did. Caught a glimpse of her once talking with him ‘bout nine years ago. She was mighty disrespectful and demanded a bit of gold for her service. I can’t remember the exact amount, but I know that it made me blush!”

“That certainly sounds like Kindle,” Sendak muttered to himself, trying not to look at Spike’s shocked face. “Well, gentlemen,” Sendak began, putting his hand on Spike’s shoulder, “this is Tirek’s young ward, Spike Solaris. You see, Spike needs to talk to the king on behalf of his uncle, as he likes to call him.”

“This be Tirek’s ward? Since when?”

“Eight years now. Tirek normally has him studying literature, history, and magic when he finds the time. It’s all to honor his mother’s wishes. She, and Tirek when she asked him his opinion, thought it best to keep him focused on his studies. Royalty and politics, they just muddy the water.”

“And where be that old goat ‘imself? If he’s going to mouth off ta the king, might as well do it in person”

“Tirek is away, taking care of a Parasprite infestation at Bishop’s Lake. I should know, the king had me send the letter personally. Young Spike wouldn’t be here unless he absolutely had to. You see, uhm- My mind must be slipping in my old age,” Sendak said with a chuckle. He struggled to think of something to tell them, though he was never good at lying. He was just about to start sweating when Spike spoke up.

“Uncle Tirek needed to talk to King Scorpan about a few spell books he needs procured. I figured that since Princess Selina was being taken to the castle, I would go along with Sendak and her. While Uncle Tirek is away, Lady Haydon is kind enough to care for me. I should have asked for a letter of some sort, but it slipped my mind. I apologize for any inconvenience.” Spike bowed his head and waited for the guards’ response.

The guards looked at Spike skeptically. Though everything sounded true enough, there seemed to be an air of deceit around the two. Meanwhile, a small part of Sendak silently prayed that the guards would hold fast and send them away. If that happened, he would just apologize to Spike for failing him and return him to Haydon, explaining that he simply wanted to accompany Selina home.

“Sal, I think we should just let ‘em pass,” The second guard whispered to his partner. “If we have Tirek coming down ‘ere, we might lose our jobs! Worse, he might come after us. I have kids, Sal!” 

“And pray tell Sam, the king won’t be the least bit mad at us fer lettin’ some dragon into the castle? We might lose our heads!”

“Well, who would you rather have mad at ya, the King or ‘is brother?” Sam asked.

Sal thought for a moment. “You have a point. Very well, you both may pass,” The gargoyle said to Spike and Sendak, “but make sure the runt is as respectful as he can be. King’s taking care of some grievances in court. Wouldn’t want anyone causing a ruckus.”

“Of course, of course! Thank you.” Sendak bowed hurried Spike past the guards and into the court yard. “Let’s get you to the main hall before anything else happens. If I must lie one more time, I might tear my tongue out,” Sendak said.

“What if someone asks about me or my parents, or Queen Hilda asks why you sent Selina ahead of us?”

Sendak let out a sigh. “We’ll cross that bridge once we come to it.” Sendak shuddered at the thought of facing the queen. She was woman whose wrath knew no bounds and had subtle ways of getting revenge on those who’d cross her. The only few who were safe from such wrath were her children, her husband, Haydon, Tirek, and by extent, Spike.

Sendak and Spike entered the main hall of the castle, passing a plethora of guards and advisors. Some gave the returning centaur a bow, before going on about their day, while others looked at Spike questionably. They were halfway to the throne room when a voice caught Sendak’s attention. 

“Sendak! Sendak!” It called.

The sage turned to see a colleague rushing towards him and Spike.

“Thank goodness, Sendak!” It was a younger centaur, no more than forty. His name was Salazar, personal tutor to Spike’s brother, Elric. “The Queen is asking for your presence. Well, it was more of a demand. The look on her face, I thank the gods I’m not in your skin right now.”

“Salazar, good to see you as well. My day is fine so far. I do thank you for asking.”

“Yes, yes, manners!” Salazar said. “I just finished Elric’s lessons for the day, if you complain to anyone about manners or lack thereof, allow me to show you to the Prince’s chambers.”

“I’m his tutor as well, and he his more demanding of me than he is of you. Unless you happened upon primordial magic, I don’t expect that to change anytime soon. But allow me to say that neither of us are Elric, so I think we shouldn’t act like him.”

“Yes, well-” Salazar muttered an insult under his breath. He never did like arguing with Sendak. The old Centaur was much to sharp for him, and if they ever came to blows, which was very taboo in polite society, Sendak could easily overpower him.  “-My apologies, Sendak, won’t happen again. Might I ask who the whelp is?” Salazar said, his gaze falling on Spike. “It’s been sometime since I’ve seen a dragon in the castle.”

“This is Spike Solaris, Tirek’s ward. No doubt you can guess who his mother is.”

Salazar crept towards the dragon. Looking him over, as if trying to find something out of place. If it weren’t for the glare coming from Sendak, it would have been in the realm of possibility that Salazar would have taken Spike to his lab for further study. “I didn’t know Kindle married.” 

“She didn’t,” Sendak said, his voice dry and annoyed. 

“I see.” Salazar couldn’t help but theorize who the father was. Many rumors floated through the castle about guards and other such people bedding Kindle. Then there was a sinking in his heart, not caused by pity, but rather fear and anxiety. Salazar quickly moved to a respectable distance and gave Spike a smile. “Well, I suspect the young lad is here on some sort of business?”

Spike nodded. “Well, sir, I need to see the King-”

“Oh, is that all?” Salazar said interrupting the drake. “I’ll take you right now, my young lad. Sendak why don’t you tend to Queen Hilda? I’ll make sure Spike here finishes his errand before returning him to you.” Before Sendak could say a word, Salazar was already pushing Spike down the hall and towards the throne room, leaving Sendak to face the queen.

“Excuse me, sir I think-”

“Don’t worry Spike, I’ll be sure to get you there without much trouble.” Spike nor Sendak were able to stop Salazar. While cultured and sophisticated in his own right, Salazar was like an eel that had been bathed in oil, slippery and quick. He would not allow Spike to get a word in, nor would he allow Sendak to catch him.

Salazar soon came to the throne room doors, only to be stopped by a centaur standing guard. “I do apologize for the inconvenience, Master Salazar, but court is in session. The king has made it clear to me that everyone must be kept out until they break at dusk.”

“Oh, trust me, my good man, this child is the exception.” He leaned and whispered in a low voice, careful not to let Spike hear. “Remember that dragoness that used to work here? This is her son.” 

“And?”

“He’s also Prince Tirek’s ward.”

“Ward?” The guard paused for a moment. In the deep recesses of his mind a rumor he had heard long ago began to creep forth. It was the same thought that came into Salazar’s mind upon seeing Spike. A pit began to form in his stomach. Though the dragon seemed cowardly and weak, there was a chance that he was son of the most powerful man in all Arcania. Ward was likely a lie told to keep the scandal out of the public eye. No sense in allowing a bastard child to walk about the land. It could spell disaster for when the king passed. “I see,” The guard said rubbing his chin. “I guess I could make an exception just this once, all things considered. Just him though, you remain outside.”

“Of course, of course! I have errands to attend to anyway. Just make sure he finds his way towards Sendak after he’s done. There’s no one that Tirek trusts more than that old mage.”

The doors were forced open and Spike was placed on the floor and pushed forward. He did not go unnoticed though. Scorpan, sitting upon his throne, became angered as the screeching metal earned not only his attention, but the attentions of advisors, guards, townsfolk and nobles alike.

“Morning Court begins at nine,” the King said with a booming voice that echoed through the room. “If you’re late then you need to come-” Scorpan silenced himself as he spotted the small purple dragon standing behind the crowd. His gaze grew hot as his nails gripped into the arms of his throne. He thought for a long while, before finally saying, “Everyone, court shall take a short recess. Clear the room, and we will reconvene in an hour,” He ordered.

“But, sire-” One very unfortunate advisor began to say.

Scorpan’s gazed turned towards the centaur. “That dragon is Tirek’s apprentice, his ward. If I even think of sending him off, then Tirek will come down here to air his grievances.” Scorpan’s eyes narrowed. “Should I send my brother your way when he asks me why the boy was unable to complete his task?”

“I see your point,” The advisor said, cursing himself. There was a chorus of grumbles as the handful of subjects, officials and advisors, guards and servants left the room. The doors slammed shut, leaving only Spike and Scorpan. 

He slumped in his chair as he began to massage his eyes. For the king of Arcania, there was no greater hell than knowing that a bastard child he fathered existed. Spike’s mother, in his opinion, had been the best sort of woman, loyal and loose willing to spend some nights with him. Unfortunately, these nights that now haunted him in the form of Spike Solaris, their son. He’d managed to keep the scandal under wraps as best he could, but it had cost him his mother’s respect and placed a small financial burden on him in order to keep Tirek inline and obedient. If anyone asked, Kindle had Spike with some traveler abroad. He made love to her and left her the next morning. Seeing how pathetic she was trying to scrape by, Tirek took pity on her and her child. It was considered the one good thing the monster did in his life. 

If Scorpan had to fathom guess why Tirek actually took pity on the girl, she probably offered her body to him. Whores were whores after all, and it’s not like he could scold Tirek for being attracted to such a slimming dragoness. Yet Scorpan could already feel a great anger rising in himself the more that he looked at Spike and thought of Kindle. The faster he could rid himself of the dragon, the better.

Spike approached the throne, his breath growing heavier each step he took. His father was dressed in bright regal robes, complete with a golden crown atop his head. On the throne’s left side was golden and jeweled scabbard that housed a sword that had been passed down from king to king. The next in line to receive the blade would be Spike’s eldest brother, Elric. 

Though he wished Sendak was with him, he had to keep moving forward. The dragon took a deep breath as he came the foot of the throne. “My king,” Spike greeted, bowing his upper body. He put his right arm across his stomach, and his left behind his back, in proper fashion. “I’m sorry for intruding but-”

“Enough,” Scorpan said, raising his hand. Spike fell silent almost instantly, much like how he would with his uncle. Scorpan as he mumbled to himself, before continuing. “If I offended him in some way, the least he could do is come here himself. Sending you is just cruel. Tell me what that egotistical bull needs from me for him to help Bishop’s Lake.”

“Actually, Uncle Tirek left yesterday morning,” Spike explained. “No one- no one knows that I’m here.”

A wave of disbelief washed over Scorpan as his insides twisted. “No one knows you’re here? You came, by yourself to the castle, and everyone just let you walk in?” 

“Sendak brought me,”

“Excellent, just excellent.” Scorpan sighed in disgust as he put his face in his hand as he shook his head in disappointment. “What would possess you to come here?”

“I came because I wanted to ask you something regarding mom.”

Scorpan let out a frustrated groan. In his mind, Spike had always been a needy child, something that he had in common with his mother. The gargoyle stood up and made his way towards his son. Kneeling before him and putting his hands on his shoulder, he said, “Spike, what happened between your mother and I was purely-” Scorpan paused to think of a word, “-experimental. Any feelings towards her, or lack thereof, has no bearing on my feelings towards you. You need to understand that I will provide for you, but as your mother wanted it, Tirek is to raise you. She only wanted what was best for you and everyone else.”

“No, I get that, really I do, it’s just-”

“If you understand that, then what is it you need?” Scropan asked with a growl. There were certain things that him and his brother had agreed upon long ago. One such term of their agreement was that Spike was to remain as far away from the castle as possible. In return, Scorpan would financially support Spike, despite knowing Tirek had enough money to do so himself.

“I was wondering, where did Mom go? You said that you needed her to do something for you. What was it?”

Scorpan stood up as a brow lifted. “I needed her to do me a favor. In exchange, she would be given a large some of Dran. It was nothing more than a small matter I needed her to tend to.”

“Okay, but what was the favor? I’ve asked Uncle, and even Grandma before, but they never said anything.” 

“That’s unimportant, Spike,” He said quickly. “I have work to do now. Go back to Mother’s before she finds out you’re gone. She’ll be worried sick about you.”

Spike’s face fell, but he continued. “Father, please, I’m tired of being in the dark. Can’t you at least tell me why she accepted it? It couldn’t have been just money!” Scorpan seemed to ignore Spike’s pleas as he continued on his way back to his throne. Realizing that he would need to take drastic measures, Spike let out a sigh. His face then hardened as he asked, “What’s Tambelon?”

Scorpan felt his heart stop as his legs threatened to give out from under him. “Where did you hear about Tambelon?”

Spike took note of his father’s expression, and he instinctively took a step back. “M-Mom wrote about it,” he stammered.

Scorpan’s face twisted, he gritted his teeth, and his eyes narrowed as his blood came to a sudden boil. “Moronic, insolent little whore,” he muttered under his breath. Before she left, Kindle had assured him that all notes about Tambelon, and any other lands related to it had either been torched or taken with her when she left. Yet, here Spike asking him about it, after finding it among her things. Scorpan stepped down from his elevated perch and marched until he towered over the young drake. “Spike, you are never to utter the word Tambelon again. Understand? Not to me, not to your uncle.”

Spike felt his heart sink. “But-”

“Do not talk back to me!”

“I’m not talking back! I just want to know where my mom went!”

“She left that’s all you need to know. Considering she never came back, she likely died. Now leave the matter be!” Scorpan turned his back to the dragon, beyond done with the conversation. Had he known that the affair he had with Kindle would have produced such a vile, disobedient brat, perhaps he would have just sent her off towards Tirek home. His elder brother needed some company at that time in his life.

Not willing to give up on his quests for answers, Spike rushed forward and grabbed a piece of his father’s robe. “Father, I can’t-!” He said, loudly. Scorpan felt the tug, which was gentle if he were to describe it, and everything went red for him.

It was too quick for Spike to do anything to stop it, not he could if he wanted to. Scorpan quickly struck Spike across the face, and the boy nearly lost his footing. Spike could feel a burning in his cheek as a mark began to take form. Spike was doing everything in his power to keep from crying, before Scorpan finally spoke.

“Find Sendak and leave before my children or wife find out that you’re here,” Scorpan said.

Spike’s look hardened into a glare as tears welled up in his eyes. He fought his own trembling voice in a bid to seem daunting. “I’m your son. I deserve to know where you sent my mom,” Spike said, clenching his right fist as he held his stinging cheek with his left.

“Never call yourself my son,” Scorpan said in a hushed voice. “You are a bastard, the son of a feckless whore who would have been better off in life had she never hatched you. The fact that you, a petulant, ungrateful brat, whose mere existence is an inconvenience to me and my family, think you’re owed anything from anyone is laughable. The next time that you think it appropriate to come here and bother me with things that ought not concern you, remember everything that you are. Then go bother your uncle.”

Spike said nothing further and left the room, leaving Scorpan alone.
> The Mercenary and the Handmaid
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rarity couldn’t explain it, but she was too anxious. While the key was still missing, Haydon had assured her that all was well, so long as the key was found and returned soon. If not, Rarity would suffer a pay cut, and likely be moved to another, less glamourous room. That didn’t bother her much. Even the lesser rooms were comfortable. She could only think that it was her worry for Spike. The young lad was not normal in her eyes, not that there was anything wrong with him. However, he didn’t have any friends. It was this that worried her most. He should have time for play, as any child should, but he also needed children his age to play with. Unfortunately, many parents kept their children away from Spike, out of fear of his uncle. 

Rarity went into the backyard of the mansion, which was incased in a large hedge that ran around the parameter of the property. There were many flowers beds scattered about, accompanied by several rose bushes and four hedge sculptures, each an important figure in Arcania. What there was a lack of was Spike. Rarity searched for a few minutes, calling out his name, before giving up and going inside.

Perhaps he went to his room. There was only so much that could be done out in the garden. She went through the mansion room by room, even searching the pantry in case he was sneaking treats, but the young drake was nowhere to be found. 

A growing fear began to manifest, and soon she rushed to Haydon. “Haydon,” she said, bowing as she entered her lady’s room, “forgive my intrusion, but have you seen Spike at all? He’s not outside and doesn’t seem to be anywhere in the house.”

Haydon gave Rarity a questioning look and stood. Quickly, she went to the garden and looked for any signs of Spike but found nothing. Countless thoughts began to plague her mind, ranging from kidnapping to murder, until she found a small hole in the hedge. It wasn’t large enough for a gargoyle like her, but Spike could certainly fit through easily. A feeling of dread grasped her heart and she almost fell over as a sudden realization washed over her.

“He is never going to be allowed three feet from this house after this,” Haydon said in a quiet whisper. She straightened herself and turned to the unicorn. “Rarity follow me.” She led the unicorn through the mansion and brought her to a study that she had never used in a very long time. Taking out a stamp and a quill, Haydon quickly penned Rarity a letter before folding it and stamping it shut with a wax seal. “Take this. It’s a letter of introduction. Go to the castle and show this to the guards at the gate.”

Rarity took the letter and putting it in her dress’s breast. “Haydon, you don’t think he actually followed them, do you?”

“Rarity, I need you to tell me one other place he would run off to,” Haydon asked. “Please bring him back home before anything-” She paused to think of a word “-unpleasant happens.” Her face hardened for moment. “Make sure nothing unpleasant happens at least to him.”

Rarity’s nodded and soon found herself in her room. She quickly opened the top draw of her dresser and took out her sheath. She was then out the door not long after, rushing past houses and people, expertly weaving her way through the streets and thick crowds. Part of her wished she was wearing more appropriate attire, perhaps a tunic with a short skirt and leggings, but she was willing to sacrifice comfort for Spike. She made a sharp turn left, down a dirty street that was dark and dreary. Unfortunately for Rarity, this would prove to be a mistake on her part. (She always did have the worst of luck when it came to important tasks.) And she crashed into something large, sending both tumbling to the ground.





Earlier that same morning, a pony slowly raised himself out of his dreams, as sunlight came through his drawn curtains. Mcbiggen let out a pained grown as he shifted in bed. He had had a bit too much ale last night. His head throbbed, his eyes felt crusty and sore, and the light from the sun was painful to look at. The slightest creak upset his senses and send his head spinning and throbbing worse than it had been before. He had an urge to stay in his bed and rest but was soon roused by a memory. 

His father, on very special days, was known to drink a bit too much and suffered greatly from hangovers. His mother, unwilling to let him lay-about the house, usually had him out working the fields. His father was miserable on those days, but did as best he could and never complained or talked ill of his wife.

When asked why he worked instead of resting and recovering, he would answer. “Yer ma’s jus’ making sure I learn my lesson is all.” He would force out a chuckle to hide his pain. “That’s what happens when you marry a woman that loves ya. Sides, she told me not to drink so much, I was just the dang fool who ignored her.” He would go on to describe his wife’s imperfections, her virtues, her natural beauty if there was still something in his system, at which point Mcbiggen’s uncle would come and silence him before he could say too much.

Mcbiggen dragged himself from bed and fetched himself a pail of cool, clear water. He gulped it down quickly before tumbling out of the tavern for some fresh air. He wore a simple tunic, short sleeved and an average sandy color. He was tempted to bring his sword, but ultimately left it behind. If her was forging his armor, he could forgo his blade. Mcbiggen traversed the city for most of the morning and well into noon. His hangover was clearing, and he was able to tolerate the sun’s light after a while. In fact, the day seemed brighter now, and it was a welcomed change of pace to how gloomy he normally was.

Then there came a truly rare sight in the city, a mare. She was pure white with a meticulously sculpted violet mane. And that was all that he really saw of her, before she barreled into him. They tumbled across the ground and her heart a sharp gasp. The mare looked at him after they had come to a stop and tried to scramble away from him, not yet realizing that it was a stallion. 

“I’m so sorry!” She apologized, raising to her hooves. There came a sharp pain in her hoof as she put even the slightest bit of weight on it. Rarity let out a sharp hiss before lifted her leg. There was swelling, she must have landed on it wrong, or twisted it when she rammed into the poor soul unfortunate enough to be in her way. Then her hoof was taken by the hooves of a large burly stallion. She could feel her heart beat become a flutter as he cheeks began to turn red. She had often dreamt about meeting a stallion in the kingdom, but she never thought it would happen, not in Arcania at least.

“You okay?” he asked, gazing into her deep blue eyes.

“Y-yes, well no not really but-” Rarity let out a pained squeak as the stallion moved her hoof.

“Might be broken,” he said muttering to himself. He began to rip off a long piece of his tunic, wrapping it around her hoof and tying it off. 

Instantly, Rarity felt her hoof feel a bit better. Part of her could scarcely believe her luck. Not only had she ran into a gorgeous stallion, but one that was caring and gentle. She was about ready to swoon at the mere sight of him, mostly because he was the only stallion, she’d seen in two years, but mostly because he was handsome. He had a ruggedness to him that was to die for, not to mention his eyes were a piercing green, and his hair was a shade of orange she’d yet seen in Equestria. He was able to care for her injuries, how was she to turn away from such a handsome suiter? “Oh, that feels better already, thank you.” She bowed her head but looked up at him with her shimmering eyes.

“It Ain’t nothing,” he said, ready to get back to wondering around aimlessly.

“With all due respect, it certainly isn’t nothing to me, especially since I was the one that bumped into you, Mr-”

“Mcbiggen,” The stallion said. He seemed to ignore her for the most part and made sure he didn’t drop anything on the ground. Rarity, meanwhile, began to pout. Why did she need to have the worst of luck? He was ignoring her. Or, he was hurt by something. That must be it. How he desperately needed someone to fix whatever was ailing his, hopefully, large and tender heart. Why must he just cast her aside after such a short meeting? “Oh, please don’t go, at least not yet!” Rarity quickly rushed to his side as best she could and began to stroke his arm. “Surely there’s something I could do for you.”

“EeNope. Yer wearin’ a nice dress, I suppose that means you have someplace you need to be?”

The color drained from Rarity’s face. She cursed herself for becoming lost in the looks of the stallion. “You are correct. Thank you for your assistance. Please, feel free to come to Highfearia Hall if you ever wish to chat.” Rarity bowed and hurried along to the castle, despite being injured. Once at the main gate, she caught her breath, fixed her hair as best she could and began to trot forward. 

The least she could do is look presentable in case she met any regents, advisors or the Princes and Princesses. Doubly so incase she needed to put on a kind face for the King and Queen themselves. Rarity soon came to the castle gates and but was stopped short of entering by the two guards, Sal and Sam.

“Halt,” Sal said in a loud voice. “What business do ya have here?”

“My name is Rarity Everglow Belle, servant of the former Queen Consort, Lady Haydon Arcanous. I’m here on the orders of my mistress to retrieve a dragon that may have arrived with Master Sendak. In her name, I demand you let me in!” 

“I would be inclined to believe that, but what you got that proves ya story?” 

Rarity shoved the letter into the guard’s arms. “That is a letter of introduction from Lady Haydon herself. It should be proof enough.” 

The guards gave her a questioning look, even as they read the letter.

“It’s her ladies seal alright,” Sam said, looking at the wax sigil that once held the letter close. “Never knew she had a unicorn working for ‘er though.” He continued reading. “Hey, Sal, she’s talking about the dragon in this. You don’t think Sendak did something he wasn’t supposed ta, do you?”

“Seems fantastic if you ask me. Maybe it’s a forgery?”

Rarity’s eyes narrowed. “How dare you. Thinking I’m some sort of scam artist! I have half a mind to get my mistress involved! And Let me assure you two that Tirek is more her son than he is Vorak’s.”

“And what that have to do with anythin’?” Sal said, almost crushing the letter in his grip. As a guard, he did not like getting threatened, especially from a stiff unicorn.

“It has to do with how my lady will respond upon hearing that two of the most stubborn guards in the whole kingdom kept her handmaid from finding a dragon, who will be lucky if he ever sees the sun from outside his room again!” Rarity caught herself before she began to shout and cause a scene. “Just ask yourselves this: How would you respond if I were his majesty, Prince Tirek?” There was a thick silence that hung over the group before Sam finally pipped up.

“Apologies,” Sam said. He and Sal moving out of Rarity’s way. “We meant no disrespect by it. It’s been an odd day is all. If you pardon my saying, it’s mighty peculiar. First the dragon comes ‘ere, wanting to enter, and Sendak is spouting how he has business to attend to fer ‘is uncle. Not a real uncle, mind you, but finding out that Tirek has taken on a ward is a bit of a shock. Then Tirek’s mum wants ‘im home. It’s like the boy was lying to us, but that would mean Sendak lied to us and-”

“It’s nothing like that,” Rarity said with a huff. “The boy’s mother and the king have a strained relationship is all. His presence tends to bring up sore feelings. Not to mention that Lady Haydon thinks that Tirek’s business can wait until he returns.” 

“I understand. I met that dragoness once I did,” Sam said. “Pretty thing, but can’t compare to me wife, but still pretty. Mighty disrespectful towards the king though. Again, sorry for keeping ya, please, go on in.”

“Thank you.” Rarity bowed her head and rushed forward into the castle halls.

She asked many guards and a few servants the whereabouts of Spike and Sendak, until finally one maid said to her, “I think I saw a dragon go towards the gardens. He seemed upset though and-”

Rarity thanked her and rushed off. Entering the castle gardens, she found Sendak and Spike sitting before the statue of a human girl.

“Spike!” She shouted, earning the attention of the dragon and centaur. “Young man, you have a lot of explaining to do,” she growled the moment her eyes met Spike’s.





She’d reopened one of his wounds. Mcbiggen stubbled into doctor’s building and was quickly treated for a fair price. Afterwards, her returned to the inn and collapsed on his bed as the day played back in his head.

Aside from causing him some harm, having nice-looking mare talk to him was welcomed, he even felt a twinge of pride. However she wasn’t anyone he could see himself starting a family with. She was much to gaudy for him. In his ideal life, he would be back on his family’s orchard, working the fields while his bride helped tend to the tavern with his sister. This mare though, there was an air about her, and it had no place at the Sweet Apple, at least not as a worker. She would probably love to stay there as a guest, as many did. Then again, he hadn’t had a crush on anyone since he was a young colt, so what would he know? 

He knew that he liked her. Mcbiggen could remember the girl as if he’d just met her yesterday. She was a usual at his family’s tavern. She was a compact, the word she used for small, Pegasus and loved to flutter about the fields and tavern. There was also an inner fire in her he admired. Some nights, he would sometimes fantasize about the girl, wondering how she grew and changed in his absence. She likely settled down with a nice colt, someone quiet and determined. Perhaps, had he stayed on the farm, he could have been that quiet and determined colt that had likely won her heart.

He turned on his side and buried his face in his pillow. Those were thoughts for another day. For now, he would rest.
> Retrieval
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spike and Sendak nearly froze until a glare they couldn’t possibly see forced them to turn. Rarity slowly made her way towards them, careful not to put too much pressure on her wrapped hoof. “What were you thinking coming here!” she growled the moment her eyes met Spike’s. She put a little too much pressure on her leg and fell forward a bit, as she let out a hiss of pain.

Instantly, Spike rushed to her side. “Are you okay?” He said, helping Rarity find steady footing.

“I hurt myself on the way here,” She said wincing in pain. “Nothing too bad, just need to get home and-” She stopped talking when she noticed a mark on the side of his face. Rarity let out a gasp and quickly turned his face to have a better look. “What happened?!”

Spike’s shrank a bit, knowing that the answer would cause great conflict regarding his family. “It’s nothing-”

“Do not lie to me!” Rarity demanded, having Spike flinch.

“Rarity, there’s no need to be angry at him for that,” Sendak said, coming to Spike’s side. 

“I know. I’m not faulting him. I’m mad that he’s lying, again. ‘Playing in the garden’,” She spat on the ground. “We should have known better! And that being nothing?” She turned Spike so that the welt could be seen by Sendak. “That isn’t nothing! Fortunately, Sendak, you seem to be wise enough to know what happened. Please enlighten me to who I should be angry at for striking a child!”

For a short time, Sendak remained silent. Rarity merely glared at him through it all, applying pressure in a bid to break his will. “It was the King,” He finally said. “They must have had a disagreement-”

“Disagreement? You call this a disagreement?!” Rarity shouted “Sendak, I don’t know what’s worse, Spike wanting to come here, or that you let him come. You’re supposed to be a wise sage that can guide Kings and Kingdoms alike, yet, you think bringing Spike of all people to see Scorpan was justified! What in the world would possessed you to think this was a good idea?”

“Spike he-” He paused, “-Him and I wanted to know where Kindle went off to. We both wanted some closure. I’m an old man with not many regrets in his life. Nearly none if I’m honest with myself. But, Rarity, not knowing where Kindle went or what happened to her, I will die miserably if I don’t find out.” Rarity’s uninjured hoof suddenly whipped across his face. He didn’t feel any anger at her though, it was not even close to the retribution he deserved. 

“You selfish, arrogant, fool of a mage!” She shouted. “Tirek, that emotionally stunted bull, has more sense in his pinkie finger than you have in that thick skull of yours!”

“I never thought it would escalate, I expected to be with him-”

“Well, were you? Were you with him?” Rarity asked, yelling at the top of her lungs. “From where I stand you weren’t.” 

“I wasn’t. The queen wished to have some words with me,” Sendak admitted, though there were parts of his story left out. “My duties got in my way. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not sorry! You didn’t stay with him because it you barely cared about Spike and cared more about Kindle!” Rarity stomped her hurt hoof on the ground winced in pain. She growled lowly as she glared at the sage. “That’s who everyone but Haydon seems to care about! I am in pain because of you, Spike was struck because of you, this entire debacle is because you cling to this childish notion that the two-bit whore is still alive!”

The moment she said it, Rarity could feel her innards sink. She turned her heads towards Spike, only to see him looking towards the ground. His face was dark, and he trembled in anger. “Spike, I-Perhaps I misspoke. I meant-”

“You meant what you said,” Spike grumbled. “The only time anyone is ever honest about her is when you’re angry and yelling.”

“Only when we’re angry and yell-” Rarity let out a hmph as her stare hardened. “You have no right to say anything about me, Spike! You snuck out of the house, to the castle no less!”

Spike wanted to say something but found himself unable to fight with her. Looking towards the ground, he said, “You’re, right I did. Let’s just go home. Grandma’s probably worried sick.”

He made his way towards the castle, followed by Rarity who cursed herself to no end.

The journey back to the mansion was quiet, but the moment that they entered the foyer, Haydon was there to greet them. She displayed a mix of emotions, relief, sadness, fury, all of which were just in the eyes of a third part. Spike soon found himself sitting on a chair, in the kitchen while his grandmother paced the room. At first, she showered him with kisses and words of worry, fright, and relief. She thanked the high heavens that he was safe and mostly unharmed save for the mark on his face. However, once the dust settled, and he was forced to recount his time at the castle. She began scolding him harsher than she had ever scolded anyone before.

“What were you thinking!?” She nearly shouted. “Do you have any idea how worried I was when I couldn’t find you? And to think Sendak helped you. Foolish Bull, he can think twice about showing his face around here!”

“I’m sorry,” Spike murmured.

“Not to mention that Rarity’s hurt, your hurt and-and-”

“I may have struck Sendak,” Rarity muttered. 

Her glare turned towards Rarity, accompanied by a smile. “Well at least some good came from this! Did you also happen to smack my youngest son?”

“I did my best to avoid him, ma’am. And I don’t think I was in the best condition to handle him.”

“You and I will see a doctor as soon as we can, Rarity.” Haydon turned to face her grandson. “And you, first, where on earth did you get that cloak?” 

“Sendak gave to me,” Spike lied. “He said it was a gift from my mom.”

“Unbelievable. He couldn’t just give it to you here?” She seethed. Haydon became lost in thought until she let out a sigh. “Go to your room. Rarity will fetch you for dinner. Just study until then. After dinner, go straight to bed, in your own room!” 

“Yes, Grandma,” Spike said with a sigh. “And I’m sorry for what happened Rarity, I should have known better.”

“It’s alright, it’s not like you wished this to happen. I will see you later tonight.”

While Spike went to his room, Haydon and Rarity retreated to a waiting room. “What am I going to do, Rarity?” Haydon sighed, putting her hand over her eyes as she shook her head. 

“It might be time to have the talk with him, Haydon. And if I’m honest, while I was yelling at Sendak, I might have let it slip that Kindle was likely dead, and that she was a whore.”

“Oh Rarity,” Haydon sighed. She put her face in her hands and began to think. “You’re right though. I wish you didn’t say it to his face, but you’re right. We-I need to stop sheltering him. I think it’s time that I have a long talk with him.”

“The poor dear will be crushed. Tirek won’t be happy about it either.”

“Tirek should have accepted reality years ago.”





Dinner was held late in the evening. It was quiet, dreadfully so. Even simple requests like ‘please pass the carrots’ felt taboo. Haydon, mixed with feelings of both pity and anger towards Spike, hardly looked at her grandchild as she ate. Spike did the same, never lifting his gaze from his plate. Rarity herself felt out of place. For the first time in a long time she didn’t know what to say or do, except take a sip of wine every so often. It was a sentiment that Haydon shared. Soon, much to everyone’s relief the meal came to an end, and Spike returned to his room.

“Weren’t you going to talk to him?” Rarity asked as she gathered the plates.

“I will, I just wanted to make sure that I could do it alone, Rarity. I don’t see much use in dragging you further into this.” Haydon waited for about ten minutes, formulating her thoughts, before finally standing from her seat, gulping down the rest of her wine, and going towards Spike’s room. She knocked twice. No answer. Two knocks again. Still no answer. She called out his name before opening the door. 

“Spike,” she said, seeing the dragon in his bed, rolled up in blankets. “Spike, I think we need to have a talk about your mother.”

Spike only murmured something to himself, shifting slightly in his bed. 

Haydon let out a sigh and took a seat on the edge of the bed, turning slightly to look at the sleeping form of Spike. “Spike, sometimes, adults tell children things that aren’t true. It’s not out of malice, we lie because we think it will protect people we love, like I did with you. I know it’s not the best thing to do, but, it’s hard to say things that we know will hurt our loved ones-”

“Mom’s not coming back,” Spike said. “She never was coming back.”

Haydon let out another sigh. “No, she’s not.”

“She’s likely dead, right?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“I already knew, Grandma. I think I knew the minute she left,” Spike said, his voice dripping with venom. 

“I’m sorry Spike, we-I should have told you sooner.” She waited for Spike to do something, anything. “Spike, please look at me.” He didn’t move a muscle. She reached out and gave his shoulder a loving squeeze. “Alight, if it’s what you need, I’ll give you some space. I’m so sorry, Spike. I love you.” She got up and left for the door. 

“I love you too, Grandma” Spike said, just as Haydon reached the exit. She smiled, but it soon faded, and she left him alone. That night, both Haydon and Rarity had trouble sleeping, tossing and turning as their dreams were haunted by dark shadows and phantoms. It was Rarity who woke first, though it was late in the morning. She took it upon herself to check on Spike. She gave his door a few knocks, once, twice, three time, before calling out his name, and finally opening the door. All that greeted her was an unmade bed.

“Kindle’s room,” Rarity whispered to herself. Surely, Spike was there. He was disobedient but safe. Unfortunately, that was not the case. What she found was far, far worse. On a bare bed, was Kindle’s key. Her wardrobes with dreadful and horrible adventuring gear had been looted, her shield was gone, but worst of all was the sight of sheets and blankets that had been used to create a makeshift rope that led out an open window.

Rarity rushed to Haydon’s room and threw the door open. “Haydon!” she cried. Rushing to her side, Rarity shook the Gargoyle awake, crying out her name.

“Rarity, what’s bothering you?” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned loudly. “Can it wait until after we’ve had coffee? I didn’t sleep well last night,” She asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“No, absolutely cannot! It’s Spike, he’s gone!”