Lord Torch is back from the dead, and with the help of a secret cult of Necromancers, threatens the destruction of Equestria with his undead dragon army.
The reign of Dragon Lord Torch has come to an end. With his daughter, Ember, having inherited the title, he resigns himself to die in the heart of a volcano.
That is until, five years later, he awakes to the sight of three mysterious ponies. They are the Cult of the Dragonflame, and they fully intend to restore Torch's rightful position of Dragon Lord. In doing so, they will help to raise an army of undead dragons, all for the purpose of waging a war of conquest and destruction across the whole of Equestria.
Can Equestria's newest Alicorn, Stellar Shine, ammount a force strong enough to resist the undead hordes? What will this mean for the future of dragon and pony relations? And what is the Cult of the Dragonflame's true goal?
Only time will tell, now that Equestria is on the cusp of the greatest war the kingdom has ever known.
Set 10 years after the beginning of season 8. Sequal story to Siege of the Crystal Empire. Reading that story first is recommended, but not necessary. Chapters released bi-monthly.
This was the end. For all their power and prestige, dragons did not live forever. For ex-Dragon Lord Torch, time had finally caught up with him. After more than three millennia of rule, his ancient body had grown sluggish and decrepit. To just spread his wings took monumental effort, his muscles burning under the strain as he lurched skyward.
Despite the pain, he refused to stop, pushing himself to fly as high as his wings would carry him. He observed the ground below, taking in every little detail of the volatile lands that he had once called his kingdom. Every igneous ridge; every bubbling crack in the earth; every speck of hot volcanic ash against his hardened skin; it all felt as fresh as the day he took hold of the Bloodstone Sceptre.
His thoughts turned to his only daughter, Ember. Against his initial wishes, she was now Dragon Lord, and in the two short years she had held the title, she had made many sweeping changes to the Dragonlands nation – including an alliance with the neighbouring pony nation of Equestria.
Torch, of course, knew of the pony's intervention during the Gauntlet of Fire. Any dragon who so much as laid a claw on the sceptre left an unmistakable mark on its magic. No Dragon Lord worth their flames could ignore the impression a dragonling had on it.
No, Spike was more than that. He was different. Even before his first moulting, he displayed a level of wisdom and conviction far beyond his years. Spike was a child in body, but an adult in heart, with a mind to match. In a way, it was a sign of things to come. No longer was dragon culture defined by the traditional might-makes-right power structure.
Now, it was all about cooperation and friendship between dragons and all other creatures of Equestria, based on nothing more than pure altruism. That was why many young dragons nowadays went to Twilight Sparkle's School of Friendship – though this was far from universal. Dragons were a much older race than ponies, and many a dragon Torch had met watched this new generation grow with mild amusement, himself included.
Of course, one could not ignore the presence of Alicorns controlling the sun and the moon, nor the vast expanses the ponies had developed in their short time in this world. Perhaps it was inevitable that dragons would adopt similar principles.His kind was a dying breed.
Torch let out a low, rumbling chuckle. How easy it would've been to crush the pony nations while they were young, especially prior to their unification under twin banners of day and night. Alas, he never capitalised on that opportunity. Why would any dragon care about advances in pony civilization? Dragons weren’t interested in conquest! Ponies wouldn’t dare threaten creatures that could easily squash them underfoot, so there was no need.
The ponies could sing their little songs about friendship all they liked. Dragons had their hoard, and with it, more physical might than any creature to fly the world's skies. What more could they desire?
Life. That one word, more than any other, refused to leave Torch's mind. It just stuck there, worming its way into every thought like a parasite.
He didn't want to die. He, like every creature, possessed the innate desire for self-sustenance. In life, Torch had bested many a challenger to his throne, be they pony, dragon, griffon or changeling. He was in control, the master of the Dragon Lands, and it was at his discretion that he would pass the title of Dragon Lord on to another.
As much as he hated to admit it, there was only one foe he could never overcome: death. And it was coming for him. He had been in the air for less than an hour, and already he could feel his muscles creak. His breathing was already laboured when he took off, and now his whole body threatened to tearitself apart.
Slowly, he turned himself around and held out his wings, descending in a slow, gentle glide. So long as he was careful, he could make it back to his hoard, the one area suitable to be his final resting place.
If death was to be his master, then he would ensure no dragon could ever surpass him. Damn any dragon to Tartarus that would dare to plunder his wealth! A dragon's treasure was what made them powerful, and he would remain the most powerful of all, even in death. Let Ember have her alliance with Ponies, and their pathetic values of friendship. She wanted to remain small and weak? So be it.
Sixty meters off the ground, Torch's wings gave out. He tried to flap and slow his descent, but it was no use. He was too weak, and there was too little time to recover. He slammed into the ground with a heavy thud, skidding to an unceremonious stop in the earth some distance from his cave.
The mighty had fallen, but he wasn't dead yet. Gritting his teeth and letting out a painful groan, he clawed at the dirt and pulled himself to his feet with a great amount of effort. His dragon magic was running out, but he could still walk. He could only hope no other dragon saw his fall.
Opportunistic bastards... he thought, his cheeks burning hot with shame. He couldn't really blame any dragon for taking advantage of his weakened state. He'd brought up countless generations that way, and it would be a long time before they abandoned such values.
“I'm… still… stronger...” he wheezed under his breath. Pulling himself up to the top of a steep hill, he arrived at his final destination. Before him stood Mount Ignatus, a towering chunk of scorched rock piercing the blackened, ashen skies. While thousands of meters high, the volcano's pinnacle was clearly visible, glowing with a bright orange haze that emanated from the ever-constant eruptions.
Some suggested it drew its fires from the depths of Tartarus itself, while others insisted that it was the remains of a long-extinct dragon species; the embersstill simmering millennia after its body decayed. Though Torch knew this to be a mere legend, it was not hard to see the similarities. Its skin was covered in long, scarring cracks, etched away by pyroclastic flow.
Dipping a claw into a pool of bubbling-hotmud, he felt it burn against his hardened, scaly skin. Holding it up to his nose, he took a good, long whiff, the rotten smell of sulphur irritating his throat. His coughs were violent and shook his ancient body.
Even now, all the sensations he once enjoyed just caused more harm. Plodding up to the foot of the mountain, he slammed his fist against the cliff face, spraying shards of splintered stone everywhere.
He hit it again, and more rock shattered, but still it didn’t give way. How long had it been since he last visited his hoard? Most dragons would never be able to break in, but he was not most dragons. He should not be having such trouble.
Roaring in frustration, he rammed his head against the hallow wall, pulverizing the barrier to dust from the force of the strike. As if to spite him, the dust scratched at his throat, making him cough hard enough to spit up blood. He really was a shadow of his former self.
Slowly, he slunk forward through the tunnel of his own making, the last sparks of his life used to reach the glittering gold within. His fire burned cold, and once extinguished, he would be no more.
Torch's eyes flickered open. At first, there wasn't much to see, save for a tiny purple glow in the centre of his vision. He blinked a few times and the glow divided into three. Slowly, but surely, the world around him sprung to life, starting as a hazy wash of random colours, before settling into individual shapes.
He let out a low, rumbling groan, and the three lights jumped. He felt small clumps of loose metal gather between his claws, all of which felt strangely comforting despite their rough texture. As more of his vision returned, he could make out more distinct shapes among his surroundings.
Small, quadrupedal figures stood in front of him, each with short, cylindrical appendages protruding from their heads. These figures invoked less than pleasant feelings, and he would have crushed them in one swipe, were it not for the strange, purple aura emitting from their heads.
“Ponies...” It was all coming back to him now. Stepping down from the position of Dragon Lord, his daughter, Ember, and her new alliance with Equestria. “What are ponies doing in my sanctuary?!”
His mighty roar shook the cavern so hard, the unicorn trio were almost knocked off their feet. Torch expected them to run for their lives, scampering off to rob some other tomb of its wealth. Yet they did not. Beyond the use of magic to keep themselves stable, they stood firm, muttering something to one another under their breath.
Through the pain in his muscles, he slowly sat up. “Give me one good reason why I don't incinerate you ponies where you stand?” he sneered, eyes narrowed.
Then, to his surprise, they bowed before him. “At long last, you have awakened once more, my master,” said the middle unicorn. Now that he got a good look at them, Torch noticed this was no ordinary trio. Each of them was draped in a long, black cloak, hanging limp off their bodies in a way that hid their ghastly pale-grey coats from the world. Streaks of what Torch assumed was black ink stained their taught cheeks, in stark contrast to their long, ivory-white manes.
In his time as Dragon Lord, Torch had encountered ponies of all shapes and sizes—all of which he disliked immensely—but few looked to be as gaunt as these unicorns.
Yet somehow, their magic was the opposite. Their horns had not stopped glowing, and Torch had a nasty feeling that whatever they were crafting had something to do with him.
Then, it hit him. Though he felt just as groggy, he hadn't, in fact, woken up from a long nap as one might expect. No, he had died, only return to life in the presence of pony magicians. Yet he wasn't breathing. He naturally inhaled prior to speaking, but his chest neither rose nor fell of its own accord.
“How long have I been dead?” Torch asked, his calm voice at odds with the morbid nature of his question.
“At least five years, my Lord,” said the rightmost unicorn. “After Moonshadow's fall, we have worked tirelessly to re-create his spell of resurrection.”
“As you can no doubt see,” said the centre unicorn. “Our spell isn't perfect, but we have managed to halt your decomposition prior to any active decay.”
“Your chosen burial site aided us greatly,” added the leftmost unicorn. “It would've been much harder to keep you stable were it not for the arid conditions of this volcano.”
Torch looked down at his claws. His turquoise skin had turned a muddy shade of brown, and his skin showed some signs of recession, but otherwise he wasn't much different from the day of his death. Moonshadow, he thought. He recalled hearing of a sorcerer who nearly brought the Crystal Empire to its knees, but only now did he understand the level of power that name beheld.
“But why didn't you resurrect him?” Torch asked.
The centre unicorn lowered their hood, revealing his ghostly looking face. This stallion had an ice-white mane, cut into a short fringe; misty, sunken eyes, and bony cheeks, as if he was already at death’s door. “Because, my lord, we have even grander plans than our former master. He was too fixated on becoming an Alicorn, too single-mindedin his vision of leadership,” the necromancer grinned, flashing a mouth full of blackened teeth. “We, however, have always admired the values of physical strength and dominance typical of dragon culture. And with our help, you can be Dragon Lord once again; not just over this singular nation, but as your rightful place above all lesser races.”
Torch rubbed his chin. “What's the catch? Surely you wouldn't go through such painstaking efforts to resurrect a dragon of my size without wanting something in return.”
“That's just it, my lord,” the unicorn shrugged. “We seek a society with no limits on what magic can achieve. The art of necromancy is, in of itself, the greatest pleasure we could hope to obtain – unbound by such petty moral restraints of pony society.”
“Not only that,” added the rightmost unicorn, also revealing her face. This one wasn’t quite as skinny, but that didn’t count for much when half her face was rotten – though this was at least partially covered by bangs over her left eye. “But we have transcended the very forces of life and death itself. What could be a greater challenge than creating a new race of immortal dragons, forever entrenched at the top of the hierarchy?”
“And we are so close to achieving it!” cried the third, bouncing to his hooves. He shrugged off his cloak entirely, revealing a stout figure covered in rotten green fur that was teeming with maggots. “But there is only so much our magic can create alone. Which is why we need you.”
“In short,” the middle unicorn concluded, “You help us build a force of slave unicorns to bolster our magic, and we will help you become the greatest Dragon Lord – neigh, the greatest creature this world has ever known!”
Now they were speaking Torch's language. He had been granted a second chance at life—or in this case, unlife—and could finally rise above the ponies which had refused to serve him for so long. No more weak-willed friendships, no more meddling in dragon affairs, no more compromises. It was everything he could have ever wished for.
“You have yourselves a deal,” he said, reflecting the unicorns' maniacal grin. “On one condition: my word will be final on all matters. You may make suggestions, of course, but I will always have the final say. And should you ever step out of line and try to usurp me? I will squash you like insects.”
“That won't be a problem, my lord,” the middle pony bowed. “Now, let us become more formally acquainted. My name is Night Twister.”
“My name is Crystal Rose,” announced the mare with a twisted grin, her magic shimmering off the polished gold.
“And my name is Thunder Spark,” added the stout stallion, squashing a maggot under hoof.
“Together, we are the Cult of the Dragonflame’s founding members,” Night Twister continued. “Now that our spell is complete, I recommend you re-introduce yourself to our loyal followers. If we are to reclaim the dragon race’s former glory, we have a lot of work ahead of ourselves. Our collective spell will keep you whole, no matter what damage you sustain.”
“So, I’m invulnerable, is that what you’re saying?” asked Torch.
“Precisely that, my lord,” Thunder Spark answered. “Why not see for yourself?”
The ground beneath Mount Ignatus heaved, shaking the earth with a quake that could be felt for miles around. To the casual observer, this was just another eruption in the most volcanically active continent on the planet. But to a select few, this was a sign of things to come; destruction, carnage and the prophesied end of pony dominance.
“Crystal Central Station, every creature!” cried the guard as the train rolled to a stop with a hiss. Wafting away the vented steam with her wings, Princess Twilight Sparkle stepped out of the first-class carriage.
“Twily!” From the platform’s far end, Shining Armour galloped over to Twilight and threw his hooves around her in a tight hug. “So glad you made it!”
“Good to see you again, big brother,” Twilight said, reciprocating. It had been seven long months since her last visit to the Crystal Empire – an event that was becoming increasingly rare over the past decade, thanks to her ever-mounting duties as one of Equestria's most recognisable leaders. One look at Shining armour showed little in visible ageing. He looked almost identical to the day Flurry Heart was born!
Then again, Twilight still looked young, despite her longer hair and crown worn to any important visits. If Rarity was to be believed, now that she was well into her thirties, she could expect her first grey hairs any day now!
“How's everything on this side of the wall?” Twilight asked.
“Hectic, that’s for sure,” Shining replied with a light sigh. “Between Flurry Heart and the new fortifications, it’s been long day after long day. I’m lucky to have a sister with such impeccable organisation skills like yours, otherwise I might never get to see you!”
Twilight chuckled and waved a hoof in dismissal, blushing. “You really should give yourself a break, Shining. Ever since the siege, we’ve had the longest period of peace in Equestrian history!”
“As if I could forget…” Shining glanced up at the walls. Numerous heavy cannons satidly. On a clear day like this, he could easily lead tours around the base of the walls, naming every black powder weapon along the way.
In peacetimes, tourism was an easy way to generate extra cash for the imperial citizens. This, of course, came with the addition of battle re-enactments to educate the knowledge-hungry populace of how their newest Alicorn came to be.
But no recreation could ever replicate the true horrors of the battlefield. Shining’s home city had been half obliterated by the time the Phantom Stallions were finally defeated, and that was only the climactic battle at the end of months-long defence.
Nowadays, with the power of five nations by their side, such conflicts became relics. For the sake of Flurry Heart—whom was far too young to remember the siege—Shining wanted more than anything for wars to be that; historical endnotes to educate and, if necessary, entertain.
It was an idealistic fantasy, one that many would consider childish, but Shining had a sneaky suspicion that, in their heart of hearts, every creature desired the same.
“Shining?” Twilight cocked her head. “Is something on your mind?”
Shining shook his head. “No, it's nothing important. I was just thinking, we sure could've used those cannons during the siege.”
Twilight's expression dropped. “Are you sure you're okay, big brother? War sure as heck take a toll on anyone’s mind.”
“I'm a soldier, Twilight,” Shining snapped back, though he only noticed the bitterness in his tone when Twilight flinched. “I mean, I've been Captain of the Canterlot Guard for a long time, Twily. Yeah, memories of the siege hurt, but I can deal with it, like I always do. Besides, you've got enough on your plate already, what with running the friendship school and all.”
“Yeah, but...” Twilight hesitated, unable to hide the worry in her expression.
“Don't sweat it, Twily,” Shining placed a hoof on Twilight's shoulder. “I know how much you care, but I'm fine, really. Let’s just head to the cathedral already. Cadence and Flurry Heart are already waiting.”
“Wait, cathedral?” Twilight stared blankly at Shining.
“Of course,” Shining replied. “Don't you remember? It was still under construction last time you came, but now it's complete.”
“Wow, it really has been too long...” Twilight rubbed her head. “Spike was right. I really do need a vacation from school business. “
“Then you're in for a real treat!”
The cathedral was only a short walk away from the station. It had been built from the ruins of buildings destroyed during the siege, though by the sheer splendour of its architecture, no pony without prior knowledge would've guessed. On the surface, the cathedral looked to be crafted from a single, giant block of crystal, each corner marked by four, rectangular towers that dominated the city skyline. Its broad arches were enough to make any creature look small by comparison, dazzling all whose eyes were drawn toward its shimmering stained-glass windows.
Each window depicted a moment in recent Equestrian history. From the reformation of Princess Luna, to Twilight's ascension to Alicornhood—and, of course, the final battle that culminated the siege of the Crystal Empire; depicting Stellar Shine as he obliterated the metal dragon with a single blast of holy magic—it was all here, in a breath-taking array of colours.
Towering above it all was the central spire, which spiralled up to narrow point that stopped just shy of the lower district's walls. From her point of view, Twilight could just about recognise the symbols carved at the tip: cutie marks. Specifically, the cutie marks of her and her friends, in addition to the shooting star of Stellar Shine, and a dragon's claw wrapped around the crystal heart to represent Spike.
“Impressive, isn't it?” said Shining, though Twilight didn't respond. To think that such a gigantic structure could be built in the span of a single decade was simply mind-blowing. All she could do was stare, slack-jawed at the perfect still life depiction of the Elements of Harmony in action.
“I think you broke her, Shining.”
If any voice could break Twilight from her stupor, it would be her sister-in-law. “Cadence!” She called, galloping over to Cadence to perform the same greeting dance they had done since they were fillies. Only this time, there was an extra pony who wanted in on the fun.
“Hey, Aunty Twily, look what I can do!” It took a moment for Twilight to recognise the curly-haired filly bouncing up and down in front of her, but there was no way she'd ever forget Equestria's only Alicorn child, especially not one that shared the mane colour of her mother and the coat of her father.
“Wow, Flurry Heart!” Twilight smiled. Flurry had gone through quite the growth spurt since the last time she saw her. At only ten years old, she'd shot up to nearly half the height of her mother. “You've grown so much, I hardly recognised you. So, what did you want to show me?”
Flurry cleared her throat and bowed. “Sunshine, sunshine, ladybugs awake...”
Twilight gasped, partly from how cute Flurry looked doing her old foal-sitter's dance, but also from the great sense of pride she felt at the tradition being passed down. “Clap your hooves and do a little shake!”
The two ponies mirrored each other's movements exactly, even down to the number of flank-wiggles at the end of their song – which, of course, got them both giggling. “So, how'd I do?” asked Flurry with bated breath.
“You were perfect!” Twilight pulled her niece in for a big hug. “I'm sorry it took so long to visit. How are your friendship lessons coming along?”
“Well...” Flurry rubbed a hoof against her leg, averting her gaze. “Besides when the Cake twins come to visit? I don't really have many friends my age. Every creature treats me like royalty – and yeah, I kinda am. But I don't want them to be so formal all the time. Sorry to disappoint you, Aunty Twily.”
Twilight crouched down and held Flurry's cheeks between her hooves. “Don't worry, you're not disappointment, trust me. When I first became a Princess, it was super awkward to suddenly hold all this authority over every pony else. I can't say it was easy, but if I can make new friends after becoming a Princess? Then so can you.”
Flurry sighed. “I guess I'll just have to keep trying, huh?”
“I know you can do it,” Twilight ruffled Flurry's mane. “Even as a baby, you were always super friendly to everypony. So, here's a little tip from me to you: learn how other creatures like to play, and just be yourself. Once they get to know the real you, not just a title, then you'll find how much you have in common.”
“Thank you, Aunty Twily,” Flurry bowed gracefully. “So, we're having our meeting inside the Cathedral, right? Let me tell you, if you think it's pretty on the outside? Just wait 'till you see what Stellar Shine did with the inside!”
She wasn’t kidding. Her jaw dropped when she pushed the door open. Towering crystal archways held up the roof, each lined with immaculate polished, silver spirals. Equal in beauty to the ones outside, the stained-glass murals filled every nook and cranny with dazzling rainbow light. Everywhere Twilight looked, a new colour combination caught her eye. Deep blues faded into light greens; reds scattered into pinks; it all looked like a window into Rarity’s creative mind.
No way she didn’t lend a hoof in layout planning! Twilight thought. Even to an untrained eye such as hers, Rarity’s touch on the architecture was obvious.
Sculptures lined the halls, all chiseled from the same marble as the floor to match the proportions of their depicted subjects. Twilight trotted over to one statue, carved and painted to the Garnet Plateau’s resemblance. Were it not for the way its eyes reflected the light, Twilight would've sworn it as impossible to distinguish from the real-life Crystal Pony counterpart.
Casting a small illumination spell to get a better look, an ethereal book shimmered into existence right before her eyes.
“Gah!” Twilight nearly tripped over herself as she stumbled back.
“Like it?” Cadence asked, struggling not to grin at her. “This type of monument was inspired by you.”
“Guh?” Twilight replied in place of a coherent question. The one-two punch of pop up surprises and catching her breath weren't a recipe for complex inquiry.
“Well, it was sort of Flurry Heart’s idea,” Cadence added. Flurry blushed and hid behind her wings. “By the time she was two, Flurry was starting to get really chatty. I asked her to choose Aunty Twily's birthday present, and the first thing she said was, ‘Magic books!’”
“Needless to say,” added Shining, “that gave us a brilliant idea. Why not throw in something a little different for unicorns and changelings amongst us?”
Twilight turned back to the statue and lit up her horn again. “Huh, that is pretty cool,” she said. “What about creatures with passive magic? Don't they get anything extra?”
“Of course, they do!” Cadence affirmed. “Just look around you.”
Glancing up, Twilight took notice of the platforms floating around the upper levels. Casting a magnification spell, she saw groups of pegasi and hippogryphs flying between them, some of whom stopped to sit on fluffy cushions as they read the information slates.
Elsewhere, she spotted groups of changelings and fellow unicorns activating small crying orbs with their magic—though dragon fire seemed to work just as well—bringing up page after page on Equestrian history. Likewise, resourceful earth ponies and yak managed to locate various loose stones and panels which, when pressed, revealed not-so-secret passages to other rooms further inside the cathedral.
Closing her eyes, Twilight felt the crystal pony enchantments wash over her, humming a soft, warm glow that melted away the stress of everyday life. This was not just a cathedral; no, it was a monument to everything good and right about Equestria. Every stone, every page and every artwork resonated with the positive emotions of those who loved to learn, encouraging those with a diverse group of friends to come together for the fullest experience.
This was the Cathedral of Friendship.
“Flurry Heart,” Twilight said. She peaked out from behind a wing, only to see Twilight sitting in front of her, offering a hug. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Aunty Twily,” Flurry accepted it, a small tear of joy rolling down her cheek as her parents joined in.
A short time later, Stellar Shine arrived. While visits from royalty were hardly an uncommon occurrence in recent years, Stellar’s status as the newest Alicorn still generated a fair bit of buzz; gasps of surprise and an increase in chatter that were quickly superseded by those directed at Dragon Lord Ember.
Twilight let out a small sigh. Dragons were a part of her friendship school, but also an increasing minority amongst ponykind. Spike was quick to remind her about the solitary nature of dragons, as if she could forget, though it did little to shake the nagging feeling her efforts didn’t go quite far enough. At least nopony was screaming over Ember’s presence, which Twilight supposed was a step in the right direction. If only they didn’t give every dragon they saw such a wide berth, maybe their relations would have healed quicker.
While she wouldn’t say it out loud, Twilight had to admit that without the crystal pony magic, she would be one hundred percent freaking out right now. As it was, she just felt a mild unpleasantness stir in her gut, like a half-eaten sandwich that didn’t quite agree. Once the talks got underway, Twilight believed this, too, would go away.
“Ah, Stellar Shine, Ember, so glad you could make it!” she called, performing a small, ceremonial bow.
“A pleasure to see you again, Twilight,” Stellar reciprocated with a warm smile, his white coat and golden mane glistening in the light. “How is everything back in Ponyville? I would visit more often, but alas, there’s never a dull moment within the Order of Crystal Paladins. I guess a busy life comes part and parcel with Alicornhood, huh?”
Flurry Heart grimaced at that remark, a reaction both Twilight and Stellar noticed.
“Well, if you ever need help with scheduling,” Twilight chimed in, “then I'm your mare.”
“Are you sure you're the Princess of Friendship, not the Princess of Scheduling?” Ember chuckled, prodding Twilight with the bloodstone sceptre.
“In her defence,” Flurry retorted and stood between them, “scheduling work and play is an important part of anypony's life,” she looked up at Cadence. “That's what Princess Celestia said when you were a kid, right, mom?”
“Actually, it's the other way around,” Cadence mischievously smirked at her. “Aunty Twily said that on her first day at Celestia's gifted unicorn school.”
Twilight blushed but made no attempt to deny this fact. “I always thought I'd get my cutie mark for scheduling, or books. But then the Sonic Rainboom happened, and the rest is history.”
“Is that how most ponies get their cutie marks?” Ember asked, half-joking.
“It's a little more complicated than that,” chuckled Shining and rubbed the back of his head. “Well, a lot more complicated; though I'm sure Twilight will be happy to explain it to you.”
“It's a field of magicology that's been extensively studied—” Twilight began, only for her lecture to be cut off by the echoing ring of the cathedral's bells. She cleared her throat. “Which I'll happily talk about another time, since we're overdue for the summit meeting. Flurry, could you show us to the conference room?”
“Of course,” Flurry chirped, activating the scrying orb below the statue of Garnet Plateau. The floor rumbled as a long path of tiles levitated up to form a makeshift spiral staircase. Taking a bow, she gestured up the stairs. “Right this way, my lords.”
Their room was situated at the central spire’s top, modestly furnished with a round, wooden tea table—fashioned from the remains of the Golden Oaks library—as well as red velvet cushions in lieu of chairs. Around the room, more than a dozen bookcases spanned from wall to wall, all containing various documents that went into great detail on the subject of Equestrian history.
“So, what's it like?” Flurry asked Ember once they were all seated. “The dragon lands, I mean. I don't know much about dragons, other than they grow bigger the more treasure they have. And the whole breathing fire thing. No offence.”
“None taken,” Ember sighed. “That's always the first thought about dragons. Kinda bugs me that the stereotype hasn't changed since Spike won me my title, but I can deal.”
“How has the cultural exchange been so far?” Stellar asked. “Last I heard, the pony population of the Dragon Lands is actually quite decent.”
“You mean you don't know?” Ember cocked an eyebrow. “I thought Alicorns were supposed to be in the loop about this stuff. Y'know, with being a Prince and all?”
“I can see why you'd think that,” Stellar’s tone remained even, but not unkind. “It's true for most Equestrian Royalty, but I'm the exception. Indeed, I was crowned prince, but I chose a different path than national leadership. In times of peace, the Crystal Paladins serve as advisors. Ponies look to Celestia's light for guidance through times of personal strife, and we facilitate self-help in that regard.”
Twilight shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, feeling the tension in the air grow. “Not that there's anything wrong with more... direct guidance methods, as well,” she added gently.
“Oh, of course,” Stellar agreed with some haste. “I apologise, I didn't mean to cast judgement. I only meant that my role is less formal than traditional royalty, that's all.”
Twilight sighed in relief, and when she relaxed her posture, so too did her compatriots.
“I guess we're all guilty of negative assumptions, huh?” Ember admitted with a shrug. “Maybe that's why ponies keep their distance from us, even in the dragon lands. I don't know who's more scared of who!”
“Do dragons have festivals?” Flurry asked.
Ember blinked. “Well, of course,” she replied. “All creatures have festivals, but they tend to be dangerous – what with all those rivers of lava and all. Why do you ask?”
A familiar grin grew across Flurry’s lips, one that Twilight had seen before. She could practically see the bulb light up in her niece’s mind. “Well, why not ask ponies to take part? If they're tough enough to live near volcanoes, then dragon games will be a walk in the park.”
Ember opened her mouth, yet no words came out. For some reason, she’d never considered sharing her culture in that way, but now that Flurry mentioned it, it made perfect sense. “You know, I think I’ll try that,” she smiled back at Flurry. “Dragons love a good competition, especially if it’s against ponies. Good thinking there, squirt.”
“That’s our Flurry,” Cadence chuckled, ruffling her mane.
“Actually, that reminds me of something,” Twilight levitated an old book off the shelf, flicking through the pages until she found the right passage. “Aha! Look at this, every creature. These are the laws regarding the Equestria Games. It doesn’t say anywhere that dragons can’t participate.”
“Huh, I was wondering about that, actually,” Shining added. “I’ve seen griffons compete in the games for years now, even before our official alliance with Griffonstone.”
“Exactly!” replied Twilight. “You remember when Spike saved everyone from a spell gone wrong? Well, why not create a new game that’s all about melting ice? I just know dragons would be all over something like that!”
Ember scratched her chin. “When’s the next Equestria Games?”
“Not until late next year,” Cadence answered. “Though I’m sure that’d give every creature plenty training time.”
“Plus, we Paladins could offer to duel the victors of contact sports as an extra reward,” Stellar lit up his horn and levitated another book to the table. “Jousting has been a long-standing tradition here in the Crystal Empire. I’ve run a fair share of bouts in my time, so why not combine these traditions for the more combat-minded athletes?”
In a flash of magic, Twilight conjured a pen and a small notepad. “These are all excellent ideas! I think it’s settled, then. Ember, if you could offer to be the coach for extreme sports, I can help organise their integration into the next games. As soon as we have the setup, you’ll be the first to know!”
“That’s perfect!” exclaimed Ember, flexing her biceps. “Just don’t expect us dragons to go easy on you. We’re a pretty hardcore bunch, after all.”
“Hey, I’m no pushover myself, y’know,” Flurry pulled out several books with her magic and began juggling them above her horn. “At least as far as magic goes.”
“I think you’re still a little young to be competing in the Equestria games, Flurry Heart,” Cadence chuckled, taking the books from Flurry’s magic. “Plus, it’d be unfair for a princess to compete amongst regular ponies.”
Flurry leaned back in her chair and pouted. “Awww, you’re no fun.”
On the south-west coast of the Dragon Lands, a pony settlement went about their regular day-to-day lives. Rain Dancer, a cerulean blue Pegaus pony with a magenta mane, busied herself pushing clouds into place over the farmer’s crops. It was hard work collecting enough moisture from seawater, but for her personally, the benefits outweighed the difficulties.
After all, how many ponies could say they were thriving in a land as volcanically active as this? Acid rain, minimal sunlight, pyroclastic flows; all these potential hazards made living in the Everfree Forest look like child’s play – a tremendous challenge that Rain Dancer and her friends took head on.
“Hey, Silver Soil,” Rain holared at a silver-coated earth pony below. “Where do ya want the clouds?”
“A little to the left will do,” Silver brushed back his black mane. He was the oldest stallion amongst the colonists, and rumour had it that he was so adept at farming, he even taught Applejack a few new tricks. Spinning a rake in his hooves, he carefully dragged it across the soil and dropped a few seeds into the freshly dug grooves.
Bucking her cloud, Rain Dancer sprayed its content onto the seeds, then gently blew the cloud across the field with her wings. With the soil moistened, Silver pushed up his glasses and raked it over before moving on to the next one. Once each row was planted, watered and covered, the rest could be taken care of by the third member of his little farming quartet, Hazy Spark.
In stark contrast to Silver, Hazy was the youngest, aged just nineteen, in addition to being one of two gender queer ponies. Despite their masculine physique, Hazy’s coat was a soft shade of pink; with their short, fringe-cut mane being a similar, light shade of purple.
Hazy weaved a gentle stream of purple magic through each seed. Within seconds, the plants sprouted from the ground, ready to be picked and presented to the colony’s hungry citizens.
“I hope the yields are better than last time,” Silver grumbled, casting a suspicious eye toward Hazy.
Their expression dropped. They offered no words in objection.
“Hey, pops, give 'em a break already,” Rain Dancer landed next to Hazy and hugged them. “I know growth spells are still experimental an' all that, but fifty-percent success ain’t bad for a first try! Heck, we still recovered the seeds to plant new stuff, so what’s with the attitude, huh?”
Hazy smiled, nuzzling Rain Dancer’s cheek. They could always count on their marefriend to stand up for them.
Silver sighed and re-adjusted his glasses again. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. Every pony knows how much blood, sweat and tears I’ve put into the farming business. How do you think I feel when some unicorn comes along, pumps the crops full of magic, and leaves with little to show for it?” He pointed toward the pictured shovel on his flank. “Goes against everything my cutie mark stands for. Nothing personal, just how I am.”
“I’m sorry, Mister Soil,” Hazy said quietly, shuffling closer to Rain to hide their wand cutie mark. “I want to make farming easier for everypony. I appreciate how much you’ve taught me about field prep, I really do. I just need to experiment a little, that's all.”
“We’ll find the right balance, I know we will,” added Rain. “As long as we still have reserves, we’ll be fine. I swear it on my own raincloud rump! So, how about we all take a break for now? Peridot should be done with the carrot juice by now.”
“Somepony call my name?” replied a green crystal pony, poking her head around an open door.
“Speak of Grogar, and he shall appear!” chuckled Rain. “You got the goods?”
“See for yourself,” Peridot Pop said as she stepped out, carrying four full glasses on an old waitress table. “Freshly mashed carrot juice, at your service.”
Hazy wrapped the glasses in her aura, levitating each one to her friends. “Here’s to the only carrot farm in all the Dragon Lands!”
“Cheers!” clanging their glasses together, the group gulped the drinks down in one go.
“My dear Peridot, you’ve done it again!” Silver exclaimed. “This has to be the best carrot juice I’ve ever tasted.”
“Oh, shucks,” Peridot blushed. “You say that about every glass I make.”
“Well, it’s true,” Rain held the glass between her wings. “You should sell a bunch of bottles to mainland Equestria. ‘Cause when they get a taste of this stuff, we’ll be swimming in gold!”
“I tried that once,” Hazy said with a straight face. “It’s not as easy as it looks. Rather uncomfortable, too.”
Rain cocked an eyebrow. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope,” they shrugged their shoulders. “It was top of the list of idioms to test.”
“Are you sure you weren’t separated from Twilight Sparkle at birth?” Peridot prodded Hazy with her elbow, though they just stared blankly at her.
“I can’t tell if that’s an insult or a compliment?”
“It’s a compliment, Hazy,” Rain smiled at Peridot. “Anypony worth their salt would love to be compared to the Pedantic Princess, am I right?”
“Oh,” Hazy gave a weak smile of her own. “Sorry.”
“Hey, it’s no problem,” Peridot waved her hoof in dismissal and finished her remaining carrot juice. “That’s life for you.”
“Speaking of,” Rain interjected,“looks like it’s time to take care of business.”
Walking in from over the horizon, a trio of young adult dragons hauled a wooden cart toward the village. Every week, it was the same three dragons; the broad-jawed Garble; the skinny, purple-scaled Fume; and the heavy-weight, black-scaled Charcoal.
“Sit tight, gang, I’ll handle this,” Peridot cleared her throat and trotted over to greet them. “Welcome to Silver Soil’s Carrot Farm. How may we assist you today?”
“Oh, cut the crap already, Peridot,” Garble groaned, rolling his eyes. “You know what we’re here for. Just give us the goods and we’ll be out of here.”
“Nice to see you, too, Garble,” Rain Dancer huffed. “Would it kill ya to learn some manners, for once in your life?”
Fume stepped forward, narrowing her eyes at Rain. “Have you considered leading by example? You’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, either, you know.”
“Um, Rain?” Hazy tried to ask, but the bickering drowned their voice.
“We don’t wanna be here any more than you losers do,” Garble sneered, flipping Rain a middle claw. “So, do you have the carrots or not?”
“Oh, we’ve got plenty,” Rain flared her wing feathers, cracking them together as if they were knuckles. “How about I stick one right up your—”
“That’s enough!” Peridot stepped between Rain and the Dragons. “Both of you, chill out already. Garble, we were just in the middle of pulling out your shipment. Rain, they’re just here for work, not to bully us. So, let’s not start pointless fights, okay?”
“Ugh, fine,” Rain harrumphed reluctantly. “We chose to live here, so let’s just get down to business.”
“Just who in Tartarus do you think you a—”
Fume grabbed Garble’s snout and held it shut. “Thank you, Peridot,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Garble. “And Garble is sorry for any hostility he caused. Right, Garble?”
Garble crossed his arms and forced a smile. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry.”
“Fantastic. Anyway, while we’re waiting for your shipment to be loaded,” Peridot gestured toward her hut, “care for some Carrot Juice? Freshly squeezed!”
“Oh, yes, please!” Charcoal clapped his hands excitedly, earning a cocked eyebrow from Garble. “What? I’ve got a taste for. Helps keep your heart healthy, y’know.”
“Actually, I’m done here,” Garble spat on the ground and turned to leave. “I only showed up ‘cause Lord Ember made me. You losers can take care of the rest. Later!”
Giving another two-fingered salute, Garble flew off.
“Is it just me, or is Garble being extra rude today?” Silver asked.
“He’s never liked Ember as Dragon Lord,” Fume shrugged. “What with winning her title through friendship and all. Also, I'm sorry for what I said earlier, Rain. That was rude of me.”
“Yeah, yeah, water under the bridge and all,” Rain said dismissively, pulling the last of the carrots out and dumping them in the wagon. “Here’s your haul, nice of you to visit, see you next time.”
“Hey, wait a sec…” Fume shot Rain a suspicious look. “There’s only half the usual amount here. What gives?”
Hazy bit their lip. They had a feeling this would come up, and now they were in the spotlight, not knowing how to respond.
Thankfully, Rain was there to provide relief from the curse of social awkwardness. “We’re just experimenting with stuff,” she said, stretching her hoof over Hazy’s shoulders. “New farming techniques, lots of magic, all very complicated. Yields are small right now, but let me tell ya, the results are gettin’ better each time!”
“If you urgently need a full wagon, we do have leftovers stored in the village barn,” added Silver, smiling. “I can withdraw some if required.”
Fume rubbed her chin. “Eh, what the heck. I’ll let it slide this time. Just make sure you don’t shortchange me again, or you’ll have Ember to answer to.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Peridot returned with more carrot juice. Charcoal followed just behind, downing yet another glass. “Hazy here is the best mage a pony could ask for. I'm one-hundred percent confident we'll have top quality produce within the week.”
Fume gave Hazy a distrustful look. “Well, I know nothing about unicorn magic, so I'll take your word for it. Charcoal, we're leaving.”
“Already?” Charcoal whined. “Can't I have one more glass?”
“Take one for the road,” Peridot smiled and gave Charcoal a glass from her tray. “My treat.”
“Oh, thank you!” Charcoal took the glass and shook Peridot's hoof with some force. “Wait 'till I tell the other dragons about this. You're gonna have one heck of a business on your claws! Erm... I mean, hooves.”
“Charcoal!”
“Coming!” holding the glass steady in both claws, Charcoal skipped away after Fume.
Rain wiped the sweat off her brow. “Phew, that was a close one. Alright, everypony, take five.”
“Hey, Peridot, are you really that confident in Hazy's spells?” asked Silver. “No offence to Hazy, but we shouldn't make big promises that we can't keep.”
“I meant every word of what I said,” replied Peridot with a confident smile. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about!”
“I'm with Peridot on this one,” Rain turned to face Hazy. “They didn't graduate from Celestia's Unicorn School with top grades for nothing!”
Hazy blushed bright red, hiding behind the fringe of their mane.
“Hazy, are you okay?” Rain's expression dropped.
Hazy wanted to reply, but the words caught in their mouth. They felt a sudden pressure grow across their chest, as if a dragon had decided to sit on them, causing their knees to shake and buckle under the strain.
“Go away...” Hazy murmured under her breath, shutting her eyes tight.
“Hazy?” Rain reached out and squeezed Hazy's hoof. “It's okay, Hazy. I'm here for you.”
“I have to go!” Hazy snapped, yanked their hoof away from Rain and shot off galloping through the town.
Peridot felt a distinct chill run down her spine as she realized what she'd been doing. “Oh no, I pressured her too much, didn't I?”
“Ya think?!” Rain Dancer snapped before galloping after her partner. “Hazy! Hazy, please come back!”
Peridot slumped onto her hindquarters, the glasses on her tray shattering as they hit the ground. “Not again.”
Silver sighed. “It's alright, my dear. I'm partially at fault as well. Let’s get you inside and leave Hazy to their marefriend.”
Hazy Spark sat atop a cliff behind the church that overlooked the town. Their hooves were still shaking, but their breathing had returned to normal.
“Hey,” said a soft voice from behind, nearly making them jump. “Relax, it's only me.”
Hazy looked over their shoulder to see Rain land. A gentle smile grew across her face. “Hey, Rain,” they said despondently. “Sorry I ran away. I'm a coward as always.”
“We both know that's not true,” Rain sat next to Hazy and draped them in her wing. “I should've said something sooner. Social anxiety is one heck of a chore to deal with, huh?”
Hazy just nodded.
“Sorry to say this, love, but I don't fully get what's worrying ya,” Rain continued. “Everypony in this village respects you as a mage. That includes Silver, despite being overly critical sometimes.”
Hazy sighed. “I don't know, Rain. You know I've been working my butt off to get that growth spell right. I wouldn't have travelled all the way to Canterlot to learn it otherwise. I've had so many sleepless nights stressing over it, but no matter what I do, it doesn't work the way I want it to.”
“But you've progressed in leaps and bounds,” Rain’s voice sang with enthusiasm. “Doesn't matter if it ain't perfect, your hard work has paid off. That's what I love about you, Hazy; you’re an enby who always strives for the best, even when the pressure gets too much.”
“I love you, too,” Hazy leaned over and kissed Rain on the lips. “I've never done well with deadlines. I was lucky to have Twilight Sparkle as a mentor. It's amazing how much she can do, even with her busy life as the Princess of Friendship. You saw the look Fume gave me when Peridot suggested the deadline. What if I don't meet her expectations? What if something else goes wrong?”
Hazy groaned and rubbed their temple. “I can't deal with judgemental ponies, let alone dragons. How I ever passed the GSU, I'll never know.”
“Hey, if anypony's gonna judge you, they'll answer to me first!” Rain flexed her biceps. “I don't care how big they are, if they're badmouthing you, I've got ya covered. I didn't move all the way from Manehatten for nothin'! Even if your spell does go wrong, we've got so much leftover, they won't know the difference! Peridot offered a week 'cause that's how much faith she's got in ya. It doesn't mean you've failed if ya take longer.”
Hazy's eyes began to tear up. “How? I'll sour the village's reputation if I don't perfect this spell! Everypony’s relying on me to get on the dragons' good side. I'm not like Princess Twilight. I'm no good at inter-species friendship.”
Rain pulled Hazy in close. “If only Princess Twilight could hear ya say that, she'd have a heart attack! Where do ya think the verb 'Twilighting' came from?”
Hazy sniffled. “I... kinda did wonder about that, yeah.”
“I went to Twilight's friendship school, remember? I've seen plenty of her legendary freak outs. But she still became a Princess, and still helps ponies with friendship problems to this day. Heck, I wasn't even the best student, but I still met you, y'know? If we can work together, both as a couple and through farming, then I know everything will work out fine.”
“I guess so,” Hazy closed their eyes and rested their head on Rain's shoulder. “I love you, Rain.”
“I love you too, Hazy,” Rain gave Hazy another kiss. “Wanna move to the church roof and watch the sunset together?”
“Yes, please,” Hazy smiled and wiped the tears from her eyes. Hoof in hoof, the couple teleported over.
“Stupid ponies and their stupid carrots,” Garble sat on a steep hill, grumbling to himself as he kicked a loose boulder. “Can't believe Ember makes me hang out with those losers. She shouldn't even be Dragon Lord!”
“Oh, I quite concur.”
Garble shot to his feet, ready to torch the eavesdropper. To his surprise, the speaker was a pony, but not one like the villagers he'd been forced to associate with. This one was covered in a dark cloak, his face obscured behind his hood.
“You have five seconds to tell me what you want,” Garble growled. “Or else, you're toast.”
“Ah, you must be the infamous Garble I've heard so much about,” the grey one lowered his hood, revealing himself to be a sickly-looking Unicorn. “Tell me, what would you give to serve the Dragon Lord?”
“I've served the bitch calling herself 'Dragon Lord' enough for one day!” Garble emphasised the air quotes and bared his teeth, preparing to blast the condescending fool to smithereens.
“Oh, no, no, no, I don't mean Ember,” the unicorn grinned. “I mean the true Dragon Lord, who rightly forbade his daughter from competing in the Gauntlet of Fire.”
Garble narrowed his eyes at him, holding a lick of fire steady in his mouth. “What are you talking about? He died over ten years ago.”
“That is indeed the case,” he chuckled. “But, oh, how times have changed. I'll cut straight to the point; Lord Torch has returned from the grave. He is no longer a slave to the power of death, but rather, death is his power to command.”
Garble relaxed, letting his fire dissipate. “I'm listening,” he crossed his arms. “How do I know this isn't a prank?”
“Allow me to demonstrate.” Catching a small lizard in his magic, he squashed it beneath his hoof. Then, stepping back, he gestured to the mess of splattered guts before him. “We can both agree that this lizard is dead, yes?”
“Oh, really? I had no idea,” Garble sneered, tapping his foot impatiently. “Obviously it's dead, what's your point?”
Closing his eyes, the unicorn conjured a stream of dark purple magic to envelop and seep into it. At first, nothing happened, but after a couple of seconds the magic began to take effect. The lizard’s blood turned from pools to streams, flowing back into the exposed, ruptured veins which now sealed themselves back. Organs expanded, stretched and smoothed out, invisible hands placing them behind muscle and skin. Bones snapped back into shape.
Just like that, it was as good as new, skittering around as if nothing had ever happened. Garble's jaw dropped.
“This is the power of necromancy, my friend,” the unicorn said with a twinkle in his eye. “However, there is one fatal flaw.”
As soon as the Unicorn cut off his magic, the lizard collapsed. “We need a regular supply of magic to maintain the dark rebirth – or Undeath, to use a common pony vernacular. That is why Lord Torch requires unicorns like me.”
Garble cocked an eyebrow, but he couldn't deny his curiosity. “Why are you telling me this? What do you have to gain?”
“There's a simple explanation for that.” he lowered his head, and before Garble could react, he blasted a beam of magic straight through the middle of his stomach. “Dragons have forsaken their rightful place above ponies, and we will stop at nothing to restore that.”
Garble clutched his wound, but he could do little to stop the bleeding. “What... what was—” he coughed up a thick pool of clotting blood. “What was that for?”
“It's simple, really,” the Unicorn grinned as Garble collapsed. “You will either serve us and become stronger than ever before, or you will be exterminated. Torch's dragon flight has no room for weaklings.”
Ember declined Stellar Shine’s offer to stay overnight. If she was to get more dragons to consider ponies worthy of sporting competitions, she had a lot of work ahead of her.
It was a long, boring balloon flight back to the Dragon Lands, so the moment she spotted the ash clouds, she ordered the aeronaut to descend. Taking a deep breath, Ember felt the familiar sting of volcanic gasses and earthen particles scrape at her lungs.
Since claiming the Dragon Lord’s title, she had travelled the length and breadth of Equestria, but no matter how long or short these trips were, she always missed her home’s harsh air. It was in her blood, a unique imprint that she never felt complete without.
“So, Lord Ember, where should I drop ya?” the aeronaut, a dark green Pegasus pony, asked, pulling up his now dust-covered goggles.
“Anywhere that’s land will do,” Ember replied. “Oh, and thanks for the lift. Flying all the way from here to Equestria was murder on the wings!”
“Don’t I know it,” he ruffled his feathers. “Of course, I love flying, but there are some places where y’need an extra boost, know what I mean?”
“You should see dragons in the migration season,” Ember sighed with content, leaning on her hands. “They can travel for miles on end when they’re together. It’s a pretty spectacular sight when a Dragon Lord calls them.”
“You should get into the tourist business,” the aeronaut quipped. “I bet anypony would pay serious bits ta see a full-on flight of dragons – I know I would!”
“I’ll think about it.” Ember chuckled. As nice as the idea was, it would have to wait until after the Equestria Games. She knew from experience how fragile a dragon’s ego could be, so treating them like herd animals would do little to aid relations.
“Yo, Lord Ember. You expectin’ a welcome party?”
“What?”
“We got a couple dragons coming at us, three-o-clock. Pretty big ones, too. You know ‘em?”
Ember followed the aeronaut's gaze. Indeed, two huge dragons were flying straight for her, and they looked to be in a rush. At first, Ember wondered if they had an urgent message to deliver, but then she noticed that they weren’t slowing down.
Something’s not right, she thought. Why aren’t they avoiding us? It’s not like we’re hard to see!
Grabbing her sceptre, Ember leapt from the basket. “Halt!” She bellowed. The hulks ignored her - instead, they picked up the pace. “By the order of the Dragon Lord, I command you to stop!”
The bloodstone sceptre flared to life, enveloping the aggressors in its bright red aura. At Ember's command, they threw their feet forward, wings spread wide to slow them down.
Maybe now they’ll tell me what's going on, Ember thought - not for long, however. Without warning, the aura shattered. Ember reached again for the sceptre’s power, but the dragons were too close. Taking in a long, deep breath, the dragons unleashed their fury with a gushing firestorm.
Thinking fast, Ember rolled right, diving just in time to avoid incineration. The aeronaut, however, was not so lucky. By the time she looked back, he was no more, falling to the ground as little more than a burnt-out ruin.
Ember gritted her teeth. She didn't know what was making her kind so bloodthirsty. Now they had gone too far. She would put a stop to their rampage right then and there. Yet as they closed in, Ember saw that these were no ordinary dragons. They were bloated and putrid, like they'd been dug up from a shallow grave, staring at her with bulbous, empty eyes.
A malicious grin twisted across their face as they opened their mouths, revealing their long jaws to be lined with decayed black teeth. Ember could smell the stench of rotten flesh on their breath. It made her want to gag. She tried to use the Bloodstone Sceptre again, to no avail. Whatever magic had transformed these dragons, it was too powerful to handle alone.
Dammit, she clenched her fists. Gotta find help before they attack anyone else.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
Ember snapped around to an all too familiar voice.
Garble. He was the last dragon she wanted to see. Besides a mild growth spurt, he had changed little since the Gauntlet of Fire. And now, here he was, blocking her path with all the smugness of a spoiled hatchling.
“Whatever it is, Garble, I don't have time for this. Move it or lose it!” Ember tried to shove him aside, but he didn’t budge, grabbing her arm and twisting it behind her back. “Garble, what in Tartarus are you doing?!”
“Aww, what’s the matter?” the younger dragon taunted. “Can’t the little Princess Ember fight without her sceptre? Looks like your prissy pony friends made you weak after all.”
“I’ll show you who’s weak!” Swinging her hips forward, Ember slammed her foot into Garble’s gut, knocking the wind out of him. Slipping out of his grip, she made a dash for freedom.
Only then did the true horror of the situation sink in. As the sun set below the horizon, a truly humongous black dragon cast a long shadow over her. And this was not just any dragon, either.
“Hello, Ember.” Covered from head to toe in a thick layer of obsidian, Torch greeted her. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
Ember could hardly believe her eyes. This has to be a dream. Dad died years ago! There's no way he could've come back to life. Yet here he stood, the epitome of impossibility, greeting her as he would an old friend. She tried to speak, but no words would come. Her body was frozen.
“What’s the matter?” mocked Garble. “Pony got your tongue?”
“You,” Ember spun around, grabbing Garble by the throat. “What’re you trying to pull? I knew you were jerk, Garble, but a stunt like this is low, even for you!”
“Oh, I assure you this is no trick,” Torch said. “The laws of life and death have been re-written, so I have returned to reclaim my rightful place as the Dragon Lord.”
“You heard the man,” Garble sneered, somehow articulate despite being choked. “Be nice to daddy and hand him the sceptre.”
“Never!” Tossing him, Ember flapped her wings to escape, only for Garble to grab her foot in a surprising turn of agility.
“My turn,” he rolled onto his side, dragging Ember into a dive and slamming her to the ground – her ankle snapping with an audible crack.
“I’ll be taking that.” Pressing his heel in the centre of Ember’s chest, Garble reached over to yank the Bloodstone Sceptre free.
Just as Ember predicted he would. Before he could grab the sceptre, Ember butted her head against Garble’s and he stumbled back, dazed just long enough for her to get free. Once again, Ember took to the air, but this time it wasn’t Garble who blocked her path.
Before she knew it, Torch smacked her down with his gigantic claws, pinning her beneath his palm. “Naughty, naughty,” he chided, wagging a claw, his grin twisted. “You should’ve bowed to me when you had the chance. Garble, take the sceptre.”
“Oh, I will,” he sneered, rubbing his head. “But first, a little payback.”
Cracking his knuckles, Garble wound up his arm and threw a punch at Ember’s head, but once again misjudged the amount of wiggle room she had.
Dropping the sceptre, summoning every bit of strength she had, Ember shoved Torch's finger into the path of Garble's fist, the bones in his arm shattering on impact. Seizing the moment, Ember pulled herself free, flapping her wings as hard as she could to escape her father's grasp.
“Damn you, Ember!” Garble cried, his broken arm hanging limp by his side. “Don't think you can outrun me forever, you hear? I swear, I'll have your head as a trophy!”
“You'll do no such thing,” Torch boomed in Garble's face, blowing him off his feet. “In case you've forgotten, that's my daughter you're talking about.”
“B-but Lord Torch,” Garble protested despite the agony in his arm. “She cheated at the Gauntlet—”
“Don't you think I know that?” Torch slid two fingers around Garble, raising him to eye level. “None of that matters now. I am Dragon Lord once again, and it is I who will put Equestria in its rightful place below me - that includes Ember. If she won't serve me willingly, well,” he gently picked up the Bloodstone Sceptre between his free claws, “she won't have a choice, either way.
One week later, Spike paced back and forth across the platform at Ponyville station. “C’mon, Smoulder,” he muttered to himself. “Twilight’s gonna be here any minute.”
Spike let out a long sigh. He’d hoped the two most important creatures in his life would be here to meet each other, especially given the subject of Twilight’s diplomatic visit, but as the locomotive’s whistle sounded in the distance, it looked as though he wouldn’t get the chance to re-introduce his mate.
Their time together at the Friendship School was one of Spike’s most treasured childhood memories. Whenever they had a spare moment, they’d spend it in the library, sharing many a tale from their respective societies. Spike recalled how he would regale her with countless stories from pony history, including the rise and fall of Nightmare Moon. Likewise, Smoulder’s stories were all about the Dragonlands, explaining the brutal necessities of surviving where natural resources were difficult to come by.
To Spike, it felt like only yesterday that Smoulder had graduated. Hand in hand, sharing a kiss, a joining of two dragons from different nations, immortalised in the final class photograph. Every word she spoke was like music to his ears, making his heart thump as he gazed into her teal-coloured eyes…
“Oh, Spike! Equestria to Spike…”
Spike stared off into space, lost in his doe-eyed trance until Smoulder slapped his cheek.
“Ow! Smoulder, what was that for?”
“To get your attention, dummie,” Smoulder grinned and kissed his raw cheek. “The train’s here.”
Sure enough, the guard was already making his way down the train, unlocking the doors to each compartment.
“Spike, Smoulder!” Twilight wrapped her hooves around them as she exited the carriage. “I've missed you.”
“And we've missed you too, Twilight,” Spike returned the hug. “How did the meeting go?”
“Way better than expected,” Twilight floated her crown back into one of her saddle bags. “Ember got some shifty looks from ponies in the Cathedral, but I think her authority made sure they behaved.”
“That's a relief,” Smoulder sighed. “I swear, every time we fly over to Canterlot, the guards look about ready to shoot us!”
“Wait, what?!” Twilight went bug-eyed, glancing rapidly between Smoulder and Spike. “Please tell me that's not literal.”
“Well…” Spike hesitated, rubbing the back of his head. “When they see that it’s me flying into town, they lower their weapons. They’re just a bit… trigger-happy on occasion.”
“Spike, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Twilight levitated a notepad and pen from her saddle bags. “I’ve got to tell Princess Celestia. What if the guards treat other dragons with the same hostility, or worse? This could ruin everything I— everything we’ve worked for!”
“Twilight, I know I'm not as close to you as Spike, but,” Smoulder folded her arms. “Aren't you catastrophising just a little bit? You know how tight security's been since the Empire's Siege. Maybe the Canterlot guards are just being careful?”
Twilight shook her head. “There’s being careful, and there’s being paranoid, Smoulder.” Rolling up the scroll in her magic, she sealed it with a small bow and held it in front of Spike. “And as the Princess of Friendship, it’s my duty to deal with friendship conflicts whenever they come up. Spike, a little fire, please?”
Spike shuffled uncomfortably on the spot, which Twilight noticed. She let out a little sigh and placed a hoof on Spike’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Spike. I know you want to handle stuff on your own. But this is bigger than one dragon. You know why I can’t just sit and let prejudice threaten one of Equestria’s biggest allies.”
“I know that, Twilight,” Spike held Twilight’s hoof between his claws. “But I learnt from you to see the best in Ponies. If the Canterlot Guard hated me for being a dragon, why would they recognise me as the Crystal Empire’s hero? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Sorry, Spike,” Smoulder interjected. “But I have to agree with Twilight. You remember how Chancellor Neighsay acted when we were kids. Before then, you were the only dragon to come anywhere near Canterlot. Can you blame them for being a little edgy at times?”
“I know it’s hard to accept, Spike,” Twilight said. “I didn’t think it was that bad either. But we need all races to see things from a dragon's perspective. Not because yours doesn’t matter, but because we need all dragons to feel welcome.
“You’ve done so much for me, Spike,” Twilight smiled. “Please, let me do this for you.”
“I guess so,” Spike relented. “It's easy to forget how privileged— wait, what’s that?” Squinting his eyes, Spike pointed toward a slender, blue shape that looked to be weaving its way across the sky.
A quick magnification spell from Twilight revealed the figure’s identity. “It’s Ember! What’s she doing back so soon?”
“Oh no...” Smoulder’s eyes went wide. “Twilight, Ember's in bad shape, we have to help her!”
“I’m on it!” Leaping to her aid, Spike raced toward her as fast as his wings could propel him. But before he could catch her, Ember's wings gave out, slipping from Spike's grasp.
With no time to waste, Twilight teleported and caught Ember on her back, needing both Spike and Smoulder to slow her descent.
Already a crowd of onlookers gathered on the platform, murmuring speculations amongst themselves. “Alright everypony,” Spike announced. “Make way, we've got an emergency here!”
Once they landed, Twilight carefully laid her out on the ground to get a better look at her injuries. From a single glance, she could already tell how extensive they were. She was struggling to breathe, the dark bruises around her chest and abdomen suggesting damage to her ribs.
“Ember?” Twilight gently held up her head with a hoof. “Ember, can you hear us?”
“Twilight?” Ember said weakly, trying to sit up. “Help... I need.. the Dragonlands are.. help...” coughing up blood, Ember slumped back into Twilight's hooves, unconscious.
“Don't worry, Lord Ember,” Smoulder squeezed her claw. “We'll get you fixed up in no time.”
“We've got to get her to the Ponyville hospital!” Twilight said. “Spike, can you find something to use as a makeshift stretcher? I'll need help from both you and Smoulder to keep her steady.”
“On it!” Spike flagged down the Station Master.
“Ugh,” Ember groaned. Her eyes flickered open to a blurry sight. It took a moment, but once they focused, she recognised Twilight sitting at the foot of her bed. She was in Ponyville hospital. Besides Twilight, Spike and Smoulder, she was the only one in the room. She tried to sit up, only for a sharp, stabbing pain in her side to stop her.
“Ember!” Twilight leapt to her hooves. “Good to see you're awake. You had a really lucky escape there. What happened?”
“Wait, what?” Ember looked down to see her stomach wrapped in bandages, her memories flooding back. “Twilight! The dragon land ponies, every creature is in danger! He—” Her words were cut short by a fresh fit of coughing.
“Take it easy, Lord Ember,” Smoulder’s brow furrowed. “How long were you flying for? The doctor said you severely strained your wing muscles.”
“I flew from the Dragon Lands,” Ember wheezed, struggling to get a word out without hacking up her guts. “My father, Torch, he's returned. And he's done something to the dragons, stealing my sceptre.”
“How’s that possible?” Spike stood up next to Smoulder. “I thought Torch died a decade ago, so how’s he still around?”
“It shouldn’t be possible. Unless…” Twilight gasped. “Oh, sweet Celestia. Ember, you were right to come and find me. This really is bad.”
Spike and Smoulder looked at each other. “What're you talking about, Twilight?” Spike asked.
Ever prepared, Twilight levitated a book from her saddle bags. “I've been studying this book of forbidden magic. After the Siege, Celestia gave it to me to help identify potential threats dark magic could pose in the future, and from what I’ve read, there's only one magic school that can bring creatures back from the dead,” Twilight held the book open in her magic and turned it to Ember. “Necromancy. The book doesn't go into much detail, but if it's anything like what Moonshadow did to create the Phantom Stallions? We've got a serious situation on our hooves – or claws, in your case.”
“But that still doesn't make sense!” Smoulder protested. “Princess Cadence and Stellar Shine defeated Moonshadow, along with his Phantom Stallions. There shouldn't be anypony left who can use that kind of magic!”
“I thought so, too,” Twilight closed the book. “I can't be certain yet. It could also be an elaborate illusion.”
“Are you saying I'm crazy?” Ember snapped, ignoring the pain as she lunged and grabbed Twilight by the scruff of her neck. “If I'm just seeing things, then what the heck happened to my ribs? My own father tried to crush me beneath his claws! I can't have just imagined all that.”
“Ember, please!” Spike pleaded, slipping between Ember and Twilight. “Twilight didn't mean it that way. Twilight's an expert on magic, she just wants to be certain this is what we think it is.”
Ember glared at Twilight for a few seconds, then let her go. “I suppose you're right,” she huffed, leaning back down.
“Thank you Spike,” Twilight looked back to Ember with a sympathetic expression. “I'm sorry I offended you. I don't think you're crazy at all. Something did happen to you, but illusions combined with golems are much easier to pull off than necromancy. We need to check before we take action, or we’ll play right into their claws.”
“Alright, fine,” Ember turned onto her side. “Sorry for lashing out at you. It's just super embarrassing to be taken to a pony hospital. I'm the Dragon Lord, for crying out loud! I know Spike helped me get the title, but I still won it, fair and square. No dragon has ever successfully challenged me since, only for ponies to kick the crap out of me with some stupid rock puppet. Guess I'm not as strong as I thought I was.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault you were tricked,” Spike smiled. “I don’t think any dragon would expect to see Torch come back to life. There's got to be some powerful magic going on behind the scenes, right, Twilight?”
“Right,” Twilight confirmed. “If it’s an illusion, then it's no ordinary spell. It takes a ton of magic just to keep a golem together, let alone make it look like a dragon giant! No creature could stand up to that on their own. Not even Celestia.”
Ember sighed. “I guess you're right. But let me make one thing clear: the second I'm well enough, I want in on all the info you got. Someone, or something, is trying to take over my kingdom, and it's my duty as Dragon Lord to kick their butts!”
“Hopefully that won't be necessary...” Twilight hesitated. “But I'll contact Stellar Shine right away. We'll get to the bottom of this, don't you worry!”
“Thank you, Twilight,” Ember gave a weak smile. “Just, don't tell any other dragons I got my butt handed to me, okay? I don't want to hurt national relations between Dragons and Ponies.”
“I won’t, it's a Pinkie promise,” Twilight saluted. “Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”
Ember blinked at Twilight and tilted her head. “Err, what?”
“Oh,” Twilight blushed. “It's a pony thing. Spike, can you stay here with Smoulder? Just in case Ember remembers anything more.”
They both nodded, and with that, Twilight left, unaware of the subtle glow from behind the bedside lamp.
Hazy woke up bright and early the next day. Not wanting to stir up Rain, they slipped out of bed quietly and teleported to the field.
Hazy yawned, holding their hoof over their mouth. This entire week they always arose predawn to double- and triple-check their spell notes. Despite so many attempts yielding less than perfect results, there was no way Hazy was giving up after they poured so much work into their agriculture plan.
Taking a deep breath, Hazy closed their eyes and gradually released the flow of magic through their horn. With gentle nudges here and there, they wrapped their arcane aura around each seed of the surrounding soil.
Hazy pictured the seeds in their mind, connecting each to their consciousness through the spell’s intricacies. As the last seed popped into place, Hazy took their magic up a notch. The plants began to grow, ascending through each stage until they pierced the topsoil and sprouted into full, fresh carrots. Opening their eyes, Hazy grabbed the leaves in her magic, and with a measured yank of telekinesis, pulled a grand total of thirty carrots out of the ground.
One look at the carrots lit up their face like a Hearth’s Warming Tree. After months of testing and re-testing, their growth spell had finally produced a one-hundred percent increase in crop yields!
“I did it! I did it!” They cried, jumping for joy. “I knew I could do it! I was totally right! Woohoo!”
“Ugh, what’s all the yelling about?” Peridot opened her window, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Peridot, I did it!” Hazy called back, still bouncing around like Pinkie Pie on a sugar rush. “I perfected my spell!”
Before they knew it, a crowd began to gather, curious to witness the spectacle themselves.
“My goodness…” Silver’s jaw dropped. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you, Hazy. I guess old stallions like me are just stuck in their ways after all.”
“What do you mean, Silver?” Hazy looked at him with wide-eyed wonder. “You helped us plant the seeds and teach us how to care for them. All I did was make them grow. If anything, I should be thanking you for being such a great teacher!”
“Oh, erm, well…” Silver stuttered. “Thanks, I guess?”
“Silver, are you blushing?” Peridot teased. This was the first time any pony in the village had seen him act so bashful.
“I, well… I suppose I did help, didn’t I?”
“I’m here! I’m here!” Rain Dancer whooshed past the crowd, landing in front of Hazy. “What happened? Did something go wrong? Ya didn’t hurt yourself, did you, Hazy?”
“Wow,” Rain picked up a carrot, rotating it in her hooves. “Not even the slightest blemish.”
“I know, right?” Hazy was so caught up in their excitement, they didn’t notice levitating off the ground.
Luckily, Rain Dancer was there to pull them back down to earth. “Oh, sorry,” Hazy said with an awkward chuckle. “Guess I got a bit carried away.”
“Oh, shut up and kiss me, silly pony.” With Hazy wrapped tight in her hooves, Rain leant in to give them the deepest kiss of their life.
A tremendous, ecstatic cheer rang through the crowd.
Only Peridot remained silent, because on the horizon, she spotted something flying toward the village. “Erm, Rain, I don’t mean to ruin the moment, but were we expecting any dragon business today?”
“Not until next week,” Silver replied, not wanting to split Hazy and Rain during their moment of passion. “Why do you ask?”
“Ain’t it obvious?” Peridot gestured above her, and sure enough, Garble was descending toward them.
“Ugh, just as my day was starting to look up,” Rain groaned, fluttering back down. “Alright, you peeps sit tight. I’ll deal with this.”
“Are you sure, Rain?” Hazy asked. “I know how pleased everypony here is, but I don’t know if Garble will ever admit defeat.”
“Don’t sweat it, I’ve got this.” Rain flew off to confront the anti-social dragon. Somehow, Garble looked uglier than usual today. “Yo, Garble, we made our delivery already. Your friends were fine with the smaller load, so what gives?”
“Out of my way, stupid pony!” Garble batted Rain Dancer away with a backhanded slap.
“Rain!” Hazy rushed to their marefriend’s side. “Are you alright?”
“Why, that rotten, little son of a bitch,” Rain growled through gritted teeth. Passive-aggressive insults were one thing, but this was too far. “Garble! Get your scaly ass back here!”
“What in Equestria is going here?” Silver asked, but Rain was not in an explaining mood. Without another word, she shot off after Garble, with Hazy teleporting after her.
“Oh, for Celestia’s sake,” Silver grumbled, breaking into a gallop to catch up. Regarding Garble's attitude, Something didn’t sit right with him. He was hardly a pleasant individual, but to be outright violent was new.
It was only after Silver galloped halfway across town that he realized where Garble was heading. No... he thought. He wouldn’t dare. By the time he caught up, Garble landed on the roof of the food barn and took a deep breath.
“Everypony, get down!” Silver lunged forward, tackling Hazy to the ground.
Fire erupted from Garble's mouth, and the barn exploded. Nearby ponies were knocked off their hooves, while others became engulfed in flames, screaming in agony as they ran for the river.
Rain's jaw dropped. She'd never seen anything like this before. As the smoke rose higher, she could only watch in horror as an entire year's worth of food, and the last hope of friendship between ponies and dragons, burnt to cinders.
“Rain!” Hazy’s voice snapped Rain out of it. They were shaking so much, they could barely stand, their face frozen in horror at the sight before them.
“Garble!” Rain snapped, clenching her jaw. “I swear to Celestia, when Lord Ember hears about this, it’s your head on a platter!”
“Ember isn't here anymore,” Garble scoffed. “She abandoned her title of Dragon Lord, just as she abandoned all of you. Long live Torch, the true Dragon Lord!”
“He's mad,” said Peridot as she caught up, colour draining from her face. “There's no way Ember would let this happen.”
Silver didn't reply. He wanted to agree with Peridot, to believe that this was the work of a single rogue dragon, but he couldn't. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this day would come, no matter how much he'd hoped it wouldn’t.
Unable to take the horror show any longer, Rain Dancer charged, throwing her hoof at Garble's cheek.
Garble grabbed the punch in both claws, flipping her over his shoulder and slamming her through the burning roof.
“Rain Dancer!” Hazy screamed in anguish. Their horn burst to life, unleashing a torrent of arcane bolts in Garble's direction. Shot after shot struck the dragon, blasting away pieces of burning roof with each round.
By the time the spell was done, the roof of the barn was completely obscured by the thick, black smoke. “Is he…?” Peridot began, only for the words to catch in her throat.
Garble was still standing, his arms crossed over in front of his face. His skin had been seared off, exposing bone, but he was still alive.
When he lowered his arms, he revealed not an expression of pain, nor one of even mild annoyance. Instead, he was laughing. “Really? Is that the best you've got?”
Hazy growled in frustration, digging their hooves into the dirt as they began weaving another spell.
“Oooh, so the little pony wants a second round?” Garble smirked and held up his fists. “Alright then, put up your dukes! Give me everything you've got!”
Hazy lowered their head to cast, but the spell fizzled out. They tried to focus, but still nothing happened. No matter how much they strained and grunted, all they could manifest was a few, tiny sparks trickling from their horn.
“Oops, times up,” with one more inhalation, Garble spat a fireball straight for Hazy.
“Oh, no you don't!” Shooting out from the building, Rain Dancer threw herself in front Hazy.
“Rain Dancer, no!” Hazy cried, but it was too late. The fireball struck home, exploding on contact.
The next few seconds were a blur. Time seemed to slow, the world spinning around them. Hazy collapsed to their knees, eyes tearing up at the sight of Rain Dancer lying at their hooves, dead.
“Here’s a friendship lesson for all of you pathetic ponies,” Garble announced, all eyes now on him. “As the old saying goes, you play with fire, prepare to get burnt.”
And with that, Garble took off. At first, nopony spoke, the full gravity of the situation still setting in.
“Hazy...” Peridot began. In truth, she had no idea what to say. She just knew it had to be something, any form of consolation for her friend. “I'm sorry.”
Hazy sniffled. Grabbing the scorched remains of Rain Dancer in their hooves, they held their fallen marefriend against their shoulder, and screamed.
Rain Dancer's funeral was held the next day. No other dragons had appeared after the tragedy, though a few retired Canterlot Guards volunteered for perimetre lookout regardless.
Peridot remained close to Hazy throughout the funeral. She could only imagine how vulnerable Hazy felt at that moment, but she hoped what little comfort her presence brought would be enough. Nopony asked Hazy to speak. They were a timid pony at the best of times, so expecting them to talk in front of the whole village would’ve been insensitive at best.
Instead, Silver stepped up to the podium. “Words cannot express the scale of this tragedy,” he spoke on Hazy's behalf. “We have all suffered from this loss, not just from the long months of work put into the crops, but also from the senseless murder of our dear friend. Rain Dancer was not just a worker, she was a motivator, always seeking to elevate the work of others. She encouraged personal growth in everypony, recognising the challenges we faced, and our efforts to overcome them.
“Her legacy will not be forgotten. She was a hero in every respect, none more so than to Hazy Spark, whom she loved and cherished with all her heart. Though the scars from her unfortunate demise run deep, I am certain she would want us to persevere through life. If there was anypony who could both understand the pain of loss, while also giving us time to heal, it would be Rain.
“We each deal with grief in our own unique way. Nopony can tell us how to deal with it, nor how long we will take to heal. But what I do know is that we can heal. I encourage you all to support each other in this difficult time, especially for Hazy, at their request. The magic of friendship will help us rebuild our lives together.”
A small round of applause sounded from the crowd as Silver stepped down. The only thing left to do was light the funeral pyre.
“Do you want to do the honours?” Silver asked Hazy. They didn’t reply, keeping their head low to hide their face behind the funeral veil. Silver decided not to press the question. He knew it was immense for them just to attend, and he’d only asked out of common courtesy.
“I’ll do it,” said Peridot, looking at Hazy. “That okay with you?”
They gave a small nod.
Holding Hazy’s hoof, Silver watched as Rain’s shrouded body was placed on the pyre. As Peridot took the torch and began the cremation, Silver couldn’t help but wonder how everypony would cope with the dark times ahead. It was ironic, given the speech he’d just made, but beyond the mourning process, there was a larger question left unanswered: how to deal with the dragon who caused this tragedy?
Silver would always be an advocate for peace, but in his heart of hearts, he knew this wouldn’t be a common sentiment.
It took a full month to rebuild the barn. It had not been easy, given both the lack of food and the constant threat of dragons every time the villagers ventured out. But through dedication, cooperation, and a little ingenuity, the challenge had been overcome.
They had been lucky only it was targeted. The destruction of homes would’ve made it all infinitely more difficult, if it would have been possible at all. But as it was, the foundations of their society stood strong.
Hazy hadn’t left their home since the funeral. Silver and Peridot made regular visits to drop off food and offer emotional support, but they were often rejected for the latter. Hazy re-assured them that they weren’t in danger of harming themselves. The pain of loss was crushing enough.
This all changed when a council meeting was announced. Everypony knew what the topic would be.
Since Garble’s attack, all trade or aid agreements became moot. However, Dragons could frequently be seen flying overhead, putting the whole village on high alert, even if none so much as looked their way.
The meeting was to be held at the town hall at ten o'clock, exactly one month after the attack. Built next to the church, it was constructed from the same materials of ashen wood and mud as the other huts, containing little in the way of decorations. Since there was no singular mayor, all issues were decided by the village populace, removing the need for such distinct statuses.
It did, however, contain a table long enough for everypony in the colony to gather around, with the chosen delegates for any given issue sitting at each end. To the villagers’ surprise, Hazy Spark was the first to arrive, taking the one end as Silver Soil took the other.
Hazy was looking more than a little worse for wear. Dark bags sagged under their eyes, and their mane was a dishevelled mess. They tapped their hoof on the table impatiently, grumbling under their breath. As the townsponies took their place, there was some chatter about Hazy's odd behaviour. Despite this, nopony objected to their position. They were the most affected by Garble’s atrocities, after all.
“I guess I'll kick off today's discussion,” Peridot cleared her throat. “We all saw what happened last month, so I won't go into details. What I want to know most is how our plaintiffs feel about Garble's words; has Lord Ember truly abandoned us?”
“Of course she did!” Hazy slammed their hoof on the table, making several ponies jump. “Are any of you surprised at all? I bet she was challenged by a stronger one and fled like a coward! Now, as always, they run amok, burning, killing, destroying! So why discuss? Huh?” her mouth twisted even further. “Why discuss? Words won’t fix anything. What I-” she blinked, “we need is payback. Twofold.”
By Equestria, Peridot thought. The lightning-like spark in their eyes, cracked wood under their slammed hoof, the sheer power behind their voice.What have you stirred, Garble?
“Hazy, please,” Silver interjected, keeping his tone even. “I know you're angry, as you have every right to be. But if there's even the smallest chance for justice, why not pursue the matter with the dragon leadership? Twilight Sparkle would never ally herself with Dragons unless she knew they were trustworthy.”
The room broke out in a frenzied, uncertain chatter.
“You have to admit, Hazy,” Peridot joined. “Silver has a point. Why let one rotten apple spoil the bunch?”
“Rotten apple? Rotten apple?!” Hazy kicked away their chair and shot to their hooves. “Dragons are not rotten apples! This is dragon culture! They've always hated ponies, and now they've led us into a trap with this stupid bucking colony! How can we be safe in a land ruled by monsters?!”
Several ponies cheered, including a Unicorn stallion with a stone-grey coat, raising his voice in support. “You all saw how easily Gable killed Rain Dancer! Without the Elements of Harmony or Alicorns to protect us, who's to say he's the only bigot amongst them?”
“That's not the point,” argued an orange earth pony mare opposite him. Like Silver, she spoke with a much calmer tone, adjusting her glasses. “This could easily be a rogue faction. If Ember wanted to kill us, why go to the trouble of trading peacefully?”
The crowd's chattering grew louder.
“I concur,” Silver added. “This was a terror attack at the claws of a single, mad dragon. Why target our food stores if they wanted genocide?”
More shouts of agreements, but also scoffs, particularly from Hazy. “You're one to talk, old man,” they sneered. “You've always been against me. Ever since I started experimenting with magic for the crops, you've been against it! They've seen what we can do, and now we're a threat. They want to chase us out.”
“No chance in Tartarus we're running away!” cried the grey stallion. “This is our home! We will never let dragons stifle our progress.”
“I understand your concerns,” Peridot tried her best to remain calm amongst a sea of flared tempers. “But we have precious little data to go on. We only have one dragon shouting gibberish about Lord Torch returning from the dead. Would we truly be better if we jumped to violence like Garble did?”
“Well said,” the orange mare smiled softly. “I don't know much about Ember, but I do know what Princess Twilight would do; she'd want us to talk. If we find allies among dragonkind, we can bring Garble to justice.”
“And what if they don't?” Hazy narrowed their eyes at the orange mare.
“Well... um,” she hesitated. “Why wouldn't they?”
“See? You see this, everypony?!” Hazy gestured toward her. “This is what cowardice gets you. Uncertainty, lack of foresight, and meekness against injustice. Twilight is the Princess of Friendship, but even she knew when to fight! Do you think she defeated Nightmare Moon with kind words? Or Discord? No, they were reformed because Twilight had power on her side.
“Dragons only ever listen to force,” they concluded. “If we stand up for ourselves, they will have to take us seriously!”
“Yeah!” cried the grey unicorn. “Revolution! Revolution!”
Now the talk broke into full-blown arguments, with many joining in with chants of revolution.
Peridot looked at Silver, her expression carrying both worry and hope. “Silver, surely you’ve got a counter-proposal, right? You've been through more wars than any of us. What's your perspective?”
Silver hesitated. “I hate to admit it,” he sighed dejectedly. “But Hazy has a point. Their methods are extreme, but they're rooted in love. Specifically, love for Rain Dancer, and for the colonists who attended her funeral.” Clearing his throat, Silver stood up and announced, “We will put the conclusion to vote; revolution or diplomacy.”
Peridot slumped back in her chair. This was not the answer she was hoping for. “Alright,” she conceded. “I will give everypony a blank ballot. Once we've decided on a course of action, we'll discuss the details. Please either vote for Revolution or Diplomacy, as all other suggestions will not be counted.”
It took all of ten minutes for the ballots to be completed, so Peridot went to a separate office to count them. When she emerged, her smile had vanished. Ears drooping, she announced the results. “It's unanimous. By an overwhelming majority, we will revolt against the dragons.”
A loud chorus of cheers spread throughout the crowd, with only a hoofful remaining quiet. Among those who were silent was the grey Unicorn. He was busying himself with a note, which he zapped away with his magic upon completion. On it, he had written a simple message, addressed to the Cult of the Dragonflame. 'Phase one successful.”
I wish I could say everything was going smoothly here in the dragon lands, but unfortunately, it is not. For a time, it looked as though everypony was settling into a regular routine, and while many dragons were less than friendly with us, it was a manageable difference.
In the span of a single month, that has all changed. Garble, who had previously shown only minor antisocial tendencies, has attacked our village and killed one of my closest friends, Rain Dancer.
This has hit everypony hard, most of all her partner, Hazy Spark. The two were inseparable, the kind of couple you’d expect to see on a Hearts and Hooves Day card. But now, with Rain Dancer’s passing, something inside Hazy has changed.
Hazy has convinced the good ponies of my village to seek retribution against Garble, as well as any dragons they see as complicit in the murder.
Now, as ponies I once called friends are crying out for blood, I’m terrified of where this will lead. I don’t know what Lord Ember thinks of Garble’s actions, if she even knows at all, as all my attempts to contact her have failed.
I want more than anything to ensure the safety of my friends and neighbours. But by that same token, I don’t want to undo all the hard work you’ve done to forge Equestria’s alliance with the Dragonlands. Most of all, I’m afraid of what Hazy has become, and what it means for them going forward.
If being a student at your Friendship School taught me anything, it’s that the cycle of violence is never ending. That is what scares me the most: that Hazy’s actions will simply incinerate a massive powder keg.
For now, all I can do is stay by Hazy’s side and do everything I can to preserve our friendship. That is why I must ask— no, beg you to intervene, before it’s too late. If any pony can help to resolve this crisis, it’s you.
As a final note, I feel it pertinent to add that, just prior to Rain Dancer’s death, Garble made a bizarre announcement about Ember’s father, Torch, usurping the throne. As we both know, this is impossible, since Torch is long dead. Yet I cannot say with any certainty whether Garble was either lying, or simply insane.
If you have any contact with Lord Ember, please inform her of our situation, so that, hopefully, Garble can be brought to justice without falling victim to mob violence.
I hope that this letter finds its way to you, and that you can prevent this problem from escalating further.
Signed, your faithful student,
Peridot Pop.
With one last stroke, Peridot finished the letter. Placing the quill back into the ink bottle, she rolled it up and sealed it with a small ribbon.
“Peridot,” a light-blue unicorn groaned as she entered her study, rubbing her eyes. “Are you done with your letter yet? I want to go to bed.”
“Don't worry, Dew Drop,” she replied. “I just finished. Think you can stay awake long enough to send it?”
“Sure, go for it,” Dew yawned again, and in a zap of magic, the letter was gone. “What's the big rush, anyway? We’re not taking on the big dragons or anything.”
“Shh, keep your voice down,” Peridot trotted over to the window and pulled it shut. “Look, I know I'm acting a little paranoid, but you saw how much Hazy's changed. If we're to salvage any friendship between ponies and dragons, we need help from Princess Twilight.”
“Do you think it's possible? I mean, Hazy's pretty set on revenge.”
“That's what I'm afraid of,” Peridot's ears drooped. “Hazy needs serious help, and nopony can help them while tempers are hot. That's why I need to keep this letter a secret. If Hazy finds out, things could get ugly.”
“My lips are zipped,” Dew gestured across her mouth. “Pinkie Promise. But if I'm honest, I don't wanna fight either. I just understand Hazy's point of view, is all. We need to stand up to terrorists, and we can't rely on the Princesses forever.”
“Normally, I'd agree,” Peridot sighed. “But this situation is bigger than just one dragon, and we’re already in way over our heads.”
“I guess we'll just have to see what happens,” Dew let out another long yawn, her heavy eyelids fluttering. “For now, let’s get some sleep. Who knows? Maybe it'll all blow over by tomorrow.”
“I hope your right, Dew,” Peridot looked up at the bright full moon through her window. “I really do.”
Two days later, the citizens of the Dragon Land colony made their move. They travelled in small groups of three or four, each taking a different path through the ashen forest to avoid suspicion. Only when they reached their point, an old cabin on the east side of the lake, did they gather together.
Silver and Peridot stood either side of Hazy. Neither said a word, their grim expressions conveying plenty. Silver was one of the only ponies, besides Dew Drop, that knew about Peridot’s letter. It was a long shot, but Peridot still spared frequent glances to the sky in hopes of the Princess' timely arrival.
“Alright, let’s go over the plan one more time,” Hazy whispered, unrolling a map beneath her hooves. “Garble always stops for a drink at exactly twelve noon, right when the sun reveals a ring of smoke in the lake's centre. Is that correct, Sand Steamer?”
“Absolutely,” spoke the grey stallion, the same pony who'd sparked cries for revolution at the village meeting. “I've been keeping tabs on him. Nasty piece of work, he is, but incredibly predictable. It’ll take at least six Pegasi to stop him escaping, but if we can manage that, he won’t stand a chance.”
“Well, we have eight.” Hazy gestured to the Pegasus team, all of whom saluted in response. “Once they're in place, us unicorns will combine our magic into a single spell. On my mark, we’ll all teleport together, surrounding Garble in a tight circle. He won't know what hit him!”
“Look, there he is now!” Sand Steamer pointed toward the lake, and sure enough, Garble had just landed. Kneeling over the edge of the lake with his back turned to the forest, he was wide open for Hazy’s attack.
“If we’re going to attack, we’d best make it quick,” suggested Silver. “I have a gut feeling that Garble’s up to something. Perhaps it’d be better if Peridot and I to stay behind. We can act as lookouts, just in case.”
Hazy narrowed their eyes at Silver, leaning in so close their muzzles almost touched. “You're not planning to stab us in the back, are you?”
“N-not at all,” Silver gulped, unable to hide the nervous quiver in his voice. “It's just a backup plan in case things go wrong. I don't want more ponies to get hurt because of Garble, after all.”
“Hazy, please,” begged Peridot, placing a hoof on Hazy's shoulder. “We want to help you. Let us keep a lookout, and we won't get in the way.”
“Fine,” Hazy huffed, smacking away Peridot's hoof. “Everypony, get in position. We've wasted enough time already.”
At their command, the Pegusi took off, catching the warm air currents beneath their wings to lift them into position with minimal effort.
“On my mark.” Magic crackled on the tip of Hazy's horn, joining with the other unicorns to create a faint circle of magic around their target. “In three... two... one... now!”
“What the...?” Garble snapped up to see a group of five angry ponies, each one brandishing farm tools as weapons. An earth pony lunged forward, swinging their spade in a wide arc.
Garble leaned back to dodge, but lost his footing, stumbling into the next attack. A second earth pony slashed his rake downward, the prongs grazing across Garble’s shoulder. Twisting his body, he flapped his wings and tried to get airborne. But no sooner did his feet leave the ground, a pair of pegusi dived toward him, pelting him with rocks.
Then the unicorns stepped up their game. Blasts of arcane brilliance shot from every direction, searing the earth as it did his flesh. Like the physical attacks, these spells were wild, unfocused shots. But they didn't care. For every strike they scored against Garble, the mob sustained twice as many injuries from friendly fire – though this did nothing to slow the rate of attack.
Their eyes shone with a toxic combination of fury, hatred, and recklessness toward Garble; a fact that he found almost amusing. In any other life, they would have made perfect dragons.
The fight lasted less than three minutes before Garble gave up. Tripped over by a rake, he fell face first into the dirt.
“I give, I give!” His plea for mercy fell on deaf ears, as the ponies just kept slamming their weapons into him again and again. “Please, I surrender! I’m sorry! I learned my lesson, I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t kill me!”
Hazy stepped forward and stomped on Garble’s head, grinding his face in the dirt. “You killed my marefriend, you crushed my people’s dreams, and now you beg for mercy?!” Crackles of arcane energy flashed across Hazy’s horn, merging together into a solid ball of magic.
“Hazy, stop!” Peridot yelled, rushing to Hazy’s side. “This isn’t like you. You… you’re not a killer. I know you’re not.”
“You think I’m bluffing?” Hazy pumped more magic into their horn. “Garble must pay for what he did! He'll be an example to every dragon in this Celestia-forsaken land: don’t mess with ponies and expect to get away with it!”
“Hazy, that’s enough.” Silver Soil stepped forward, somehow remaining calm in spite of the extreme situation. “Look around you. How many ponies have you hurt because of this? Is this what you want?”
Indeed, many of Hazy's fellow townsponies stood injured, covered in cuts, bruises and burns from the scuffle. But they remained focused on Garble. “I… but… Garble! He—”
“It’s okay, Hazy,” Peridot stepped over Garble and pulled Hazy into a tight hug. Their magic aura vanishing, Hazy collapsed into Peridot's forelegs, crying. “We’ll be okay. I’ve sent a letter to Princess Twilight, she’ll sort everything out.”
Silver now turned his attention to Garble. “I don’t know what’s going on in that messed-up head of yours, but this ends now. Leave, now; you’ve been given a second chance, I doubt you’ll get another.”
Garble didn’t reply. Instead, he simply sat up, giving every pony a good view to watch see the dark purple aura enveloped him, healing all his wounds.
“What in Eque—”
Garble slammed his fist into Silver’s gut and he keeled over, gasping for air. When Hazy looked up, Sand Steamer was standing next to Garble, his eyes glowing with purple magic. A black cloak now shrouded his form, strange markings manifesting on his face.
Then the sky exploded.
Dozens of dragons shot out from the trees, blasting the remaining Pegusi out of the air. Hazy recognised two dragons in particular: Fume and Charcoal. They landed in front of them, displaying the same smug grin as Garble had the day he murdered Rain.
Charcoal stepped forward, grabbing Peridot by the scruff of her neck.
“No, please!” Hazy begged, grabbing Peridot’s leg. “I give up! You’ve won! Just don’t kill any more of my friends!”
“Oh, really?” Garble rubbed his chin. “What were you saying about mercy before?”
“Let me go!” Peridot swung her hooves wildly, unable to reach Charcoal. “You won’t get away with this! Princess Twilight will be here any minute now.”
“I don’t think that will be a problem.”
Hazy’s jaw dropped. A dragon of inconceivable size, dwarfing every other creature in sight, landed before her. Despite being covered from head to toe in obsidian, Hazy knew it could be none other than Torch: father to Ember and former Dragon Lord.
“Excellent work, Night Twister,” said Torch, addressing the unicorn Hazy had known as Sand Steamer. “You’ve proven yourself invaluable yet again. I’m impressed.”
“It was no trouble at all,” Night Twister looked at Hazy with a mocking grin. “They were so easy to manipulate once their lover was out of the picture. It was child's play, really.”
“You mean…” Peridot gasped, pointing her hoof at Night Twister. “Traitorous scum! When I get my hooves on you, I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” Night Twister smirked. “Charcoal, do me a favour and break her hooves. I think they’re rather important to her.”
“No!” Hazy cried. They tried to cast a spell, but it was no good. In the rush of combat, they’d overextended themselves. Helpless, Hazy watched in horror as Charcoal grabbed Peridot’s right hoof in his claws, then twisted, breaking her wrist in a bone-crunching snap.
Peridot clamped her mouth shut, stifling a scream. She refused to give the traitor the satisfaction of her pain.
“Well, look what we have here,” Garble jeered, walking up to Peridot. “This little pony thinks she's made of stronger stuff. How about we put that to the test?”
“Go buck yourself.” Peridot spat in Garble's face then chomped down hard on Charcoal's fingers. The black dragon recoiled, losing his grip and dropping her.
Peridot tried to limp away, but Garble easily outran her, stomping on her back and pinning her underfoot.
“Peridot!” Hazy rose to intervene, but Fume blocked their path, staring down at them with blank, pupil-less eyes that sent shivers down their spine.
“Looks like we've got a fighter on our hands, boss,” Garble looked up at Torch. “Think we should kill her?”
Torch pondered the question for a moment, but ultimately shook his head. “No, keep her alive, for now. I want her to see what we do with rebellious ponies.” He looked down at Hazy and grinned. “Night Twister, Fume, you know what to do.”
Fume grabbed Hazy by the back of her neck with both claws as Night Twister approached, the beginnings of a dark spell flickering on the tip of his horn. “Wait, what are you doing?” they tried to wriggle free, their limbs shaking as panic set in. “You're one of us! Why are you serving the dragons? Somepony, anypony, help me! I don't want to die! Please, help! Please!”
But no one did. All the villagers were either too badly injured from the dragons' ambush, or too afraid of Torch to lift a hoof. With Silver still struggling for breath, Peridot watched in horror as Night Twister tapped his horn against Hazy's.
“No! No! Stop—” The spell connected, releasing a flow of purple magic between the two. As the curse took hold, Hazy went limp, the colour draining from their coat.
When Night Twister stepped away, Peridot gasped in horror. Hazy just sat there, blankly staring into space. “What did you do to my friend?!” she snarled.
“Exactly what will happen to you if you don't comply,” said Night Twister. “Don't worry, I know you'll take good care of your friend. If we are to fuel Lord Torch's army against Equestria, we need every healthy unicorn we can get.”
Some of the townsponies tried to escape, but there was no point. The dragons had them surrounded, and as they clamped their chains around everypony's legs, Peridot couldn't help but reflect on how different everything had been just a month before. Where once there was a thriving colony of ponies, now there would be an abandoned, burnt out town, its citizens shipped off to who-knows-where to become slaves – and there would be plenty more to come.
As she was shackled and pulled her to her hooves, Peridot took one last look at the sky. In light of how easily they'd all been manipulated, she realized how foolish it was to wish for a saviour that would never come.
It didn't matter if Twilight got her letter or not, the result would be the same. The ponies of the Dragonlands had lost, enslaved to a power that transcended death.
Twilight paced back and forth across the map room. Just thinking about the letter made her blood run cold. Worse still, as the situation in the Dragon Lands worsened in Ember’s absence, her friends were late.
I should’ve expected this, she let out a long sigh. I know how busy everypony can be. Why did I give them a specific time, again?
A stupid question. She knew why she’d asked. It was for her own sake, to stave off anxiety rather than anything realistic. Which, ironically, doubled the stress factor.
After more than three hours of waiting—two of which were before the scheduled time—Spike burst through the door with his friends in tow.
“Sorry we're late!” he announced. “I wanted to get everyone together first.”
“Thank Celestia you came,” Twilight said as they took their seats around the map. “We have a dangerous situation on our hooves.”
“About the dragon lands, right?” said Rainbow Dash. “Don't worry, Twi. We all got your letter.”
“Is this the part where we all get the elements of harmony and be like, zam! Kapow! Rainbow power whoosh,” Pinkie Pie motioned through every sound effect she could think of. “Then no more undead dragons, right?”
“I wish it was that simple, Pinkie,” Twilight sighed over the letter she held in her magic. “From what Peridot Pop wrote, we know Garble is deliberately stirring up tensions. Even if we could face down Torch on our own, it wouldn't fix the broken friendships between ponies and dragons.”
“Well, how's the relations lookin', Equestria-side?” asked Applejack. “I admit, I don't see many dragons 'round my neck of the woods, save for Spike and a few other Friendship School students. That said, I'd never turned away a potential customer.”
“Neither would I,” added Rarity. “Besides Smoulder, dragons don't take much interest in fashion. Though I will admit, ponies tend to rush their business when dragons visit my boutiques.”
“I have the opposite problem,” admitted Fluttershy. “I get a lot of dragons around my sanctuary, wanting to learn about my animal friends. They helped me overcome my dragonphobia, but as they became regulars, fewer ponies wanted to work with them.”
“What about you, Starlight?” Twilight asked. “Did you bring the student census like I asked?”
“No, but I did one better,” Starlight smiled, ripping a sheet of paper from her notepad. “The actual census is a huge document, but I've kept a running tally of each creature type attending each year to summarise it.”
“And? How many dragons are there compared to other creatures?”
Her smile dropped. “Yeah, about that...” she cleared her throat. “There's been a steady decline in dragon attendees, though that rate has slowed since Chancellor Neighsay was kicked from the EEA. I guess he did a lot more damage behind the scenes, huh?”
“Pardon my ignorance, Twilight,” Rarity chimed in. “But are you certain this business about Torch's resurrection is factual? Not that I don't trust you, but you must admit, it does sound a little far-fetched.”
“I didn't want to believe it, either,” she conceded. “But the bruising on Ember's chest are consistent with dragon claw marks, and I don't think she'd lie about something so extravagant.”
“So, what do we do, Twilight?” asked Pinkie. “I'm always inviting dragons to my parties, but most of them never accept! Wasn’t your meeting with Ember last month all about that?”
“It was, Pinkie,” Twilight held her head in her hooves, ears drooping. “But now everything's gone from bad to worse. Besides this, I’ve got missing unicorns reports from all over Canterlot!”
“Now wait just an apple buckin' minute,” Applejack interjected. “Why didn't ya tell us about this sooner, Twi? This could be important!”
Twilight blushed. “Ugh, I'm sorry, Applejack. I've been so stressed over everything lately, I must've skipped over that issue. So much for being the most organised Princess in Equestria.”
“Now, now, Twilight,” Rarity comforted. “Beating yourself up won't get us anywhere. We all make mistakes, after all.”
“I swear, if Spitfire had a bit for every time I forgot my officer's uniform, she'd be the richest mare in Equestria!”
“What's important is that we're here now,” added Fluttershy with a soft smile. “Even Princesses need help sometimes. My sanctuary wouldn't be the same without its volunteers! If some creature is threatening the Equestrian Alliance, we will be the first to deal with it.”
“Yeah!” exclaimed Pinkie, pulling out her party cannon. “And I do know dragons who love my parties and get along with every creature. If we can make them smile, we can do anything!”
“Also, I've already begun preliminary investigations into the missing unicorns, Celestia and Luna,” Starlight flipped her notepad back a few pages. “So, whatever we decide to do, we have something to work with.”
Twilight felt her heart swell at her friends’ magnanimous effort. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”
“More to the point,” Rarity continued. “I will admit to hearing rumours about disappearing unicorns. If the hearsay is to be believed, it's a result of spontaneous pony combustion. I dismissed it as just another urban legend at first, but there may be a grain of truth to it after all.”
“Oh, yeah, Smoulder told me about that,” added Spike. “Now that I think about it, maybe it has something to do with what Peridot described?”
Twilight hummed in thought, connecting the dots in her head. “I think you’re onto something, Spike.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Dash tried not to sound impatient. “We can’t just go around asking about suspicious dragons. Trust me, I’ve worked with the Wonderbolts on crowd control duty, the last thing we wanna do is make a scene.”
“Oh, oh, I have an idea!” Pinkie threw up her hoof, desperate to get Twilight’s attention.
“Just speak your mind, Pinkie,” Twilight smiled. “This isn’t a lecture.”
She cleared her throat and pulled out a laminated card from her mane. “I was already planning to host Trixie’s birthday party this Saturday, and she’s gonna be unveiling some amazing new tricks to all her friends. If this pony-killer only takes out unicorns, this’ll be the easiest trap in the book!”
She then pulled out a thick, leather-bound book called ‘The Big Book of Booby Traps’ and turned to a page somewhere in the middle. Sure enough, under the title of ‘Easiest Trap’ was a simple diagram depicting just what she’d described.
“Of course, I almost forgot!” Starlight exclaimed, blushing slightly. “Not that I usually forget about ponies’ birthdays, mind you, hehe…”
“Anyway,” Twilight continued. “Starlight, you and I will use a simple cloaking spell to hide close to Trixie. So far, the culprit has never attacked in public, meaning they’re likely to strike at Trixie during rehearsals. Spike, you work with Rainbow Dash, Applejack and Smoulder on security. Keep a list of every creature that goes in or out the designated party area.
“Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Fluttershy; you three will work on the festivities. Make every creature as relaxed as possible, so those with a score to settle can be picked out easily. Once we’ve weeded out our suspect, we can reveal them and finally get the information we need to bust this case wide open!
“If everything goes to plan, we should have enough info to help both Ember and the Dragon Land ponies!”
And so the stage was set, both literally and metaphorically. All of Trixie’s props were set up and ready to be used, with a large banner draped overhead reading, ‘Happy Birthday, Trixie!’
The event was hosted in the heart Canterlot, with the library as a temporary backstage facility for Trixie’s preparations. The party area was cordoned off by some light fencing, funnelling creatures into four possible entrances or exits. As predicted, the audience was a decent mix of Equestria-allied races, though ponies were still in the majority, with dragons being the fewest.
Pinkie Pie set up several stalls with traditional fairground games, some do-it-yourself stage magic kits, along with an assortment of sweet treats she’d baked with help from the Cake twins. Fluttershy organised a small petting zoo in a quiet corner, which Twilight had generously installed with a sound-dampening spell to aid those with sensory issues.
Rarity ensured the area was furnished proper, with velvet curtains for the stage and matching cushions tactically placed wherever creatures needed to relax. Though no party would be complete without a sample from her latest fashion line; featuring dresses, shirts and fabric-based accessories in a broad spectrum of colours and sizes.
On the stage, the Cutie Mark Crusaders kept the crowd entertained, starting with their famed Equestria Games entrance, perfected a decade prior. Thus far, beyond a few unfriendly glances, there was little in the way of conflict.
That, of course, was about to change, if one pony got her way. Night Light was an unassuming unicorn mare: dull purple coat, light brown mane, and a blue butterfly cutie mark. It was easy to slip backstage when one held the road crew tour pass Trixie's – stolen, of course.
The sign on Trxie’s dressing room door read: ‘The Great and Powerful Trixie: 'Master of Illusions' in bold blue letters. Master of illusions, eh? Night light thought, grinning to herself. Lord Torch is gonna want a mare like this among our ranks!
With a quick glance around to ensure no creature was looking, Night Light knocked on Trixie's dressing room door. “Five minutes, Trixie,” she said with feigned professionalism.
“What?!” Trixie exclaimed, followed by a startled clatter of items hitting the floor. “Twilight said I wasn't due until seven!”
“Turns out, there's been a scheduling conflict,” Night Light lied, her voice monotone. “The crowd's getting pretty reckless, so you might wanna hurry up.”
With yet more cluttering and disgruntled curses, Trixie yanked open the door to confront her stage assistant. “Let me see that—”
Their eyes met, and Night Light's horn crackled with dark magic.
“Now!”
At Trixie's call, Twilight and Starlight flashed out of hiding. Before Night Light could react, all three unicorns hijacked her spell, turning her midnight blue aura into a trio of light-purple lasouse. In a flash, she was teleported back to the stage, just in time for the CMC finished their act.
“Every creature, your attention please!” Starlight announced, levitating Night Light above the stage with their limbs tied back.
The unicorns and changelings in the crowd were the first to react, shivering as a sudden sense of foreboding washed over them. Soon, every creature’s attention was firmly captivated by the mysterious unicorn; her unassuming visage melting away to reveal a dull, cracked coat and black markings under her eyes.
“This mare’s aura matches the magical signature of recent crime scenes. We have captured the mysterious unicorn-napper!”
The crowd gasped, chattering amongst themselves about the sudden turn of events.
“Now, start talking,” Twilight yelled at the captive mare. “Who are you, and where are you taking the missing unicorns?”
To that question, Night Light threw her head back and laughed. “Well done, a good show, indeed! I would've expected nothing less from Princess Twilight Sparkle.”
“Answer her question already!” Magic surged from Trixie's horn, tightening the spell around the mad mare's chest.
“Easy there, Trixie,” Twilight shot her a warning glare. “Villains like these always have a flare for the dramatic. No need to play the bad cop.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Night Light continued, trying to act calm despite her laboured breathing. “My name is Night Light, and I thank you for providing me an audience. I have an announcement, neigh, a prophecy to declare for every creature who has ears to hear! Dragon Lord Torch has been reinstated, and through the power of unicorn magic, he is bringing dragons back from the grave, making them stronger than ever before!”
“You mean they're...” Starlight hesitated, but she could think of no other word. “...zombies?”
“Impossible!” cried a dragon from the crowd. “She's lying! Ember is the Dragon Lord!”
“Didn't you hear?” a Pegasus pony shouted back. “Ember's been taken down! I saw her crash in ponyville!”
“Zombies aren't real, are they?”
“Shut up!”
The entire crowd broke into a frenzy of arguments, all the while Night Light continued to laugh. “Panic all you want; it won't change your fate. Torch is raising his army of the dead as we speak, and soon, it will be strong enough to destroy Equestria and establish a new rule: Dragon rule!”
“That's where you're wrong!” Twilight stated with a confident grin, hoping to calm the crowd. “Even if you could bring dragons back from the dead, sooner or later, your power will run dry. Compared to the magic of friendship, evil cannot last!”
“You think I'm joking?” Night Light scoffed. “I can't believe it. You actually think I'm joking! Well, if my words don't convince you, maybe my actions will!”
The magical hold shattered. In its place, a huge, swirling mass of black magic exploded outwards, enveloping Night Light’s body and knocking her captors back.
Like startled beasts, the crowd screamed, crashing into one another as they scrambled to escape.
“This way, every creature!” Applejack called, breaking open the fence with a well-placed buck. Spike and Smoulder followed suit, ripping out sections with their claws for others to flee through.
Starlight found her hooves first, shooting a beam of magic at the black mass, but it did nothing. She tried again, channelling her power into a continuous stream, to no avail.
“Twilight, Trixie!” she grunted, hoping to Celestia they were still conscious. “Buff my magic! We have to get this thing under control.”
Trixie groaned and sat up, rubbing her forehead. “What are you talking abou—” her jaw dropped at the sight. “On it!” Trixie threw everything she had at the bubble, her magic spiralling around Starlight’s beam to give it that extra push.
Twilight, however, took a different approach. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, letting her magic wash over the bubble like the tide. She painted a mental picture of it for any weak spots visible under her examination.
To Twilight’s surprise, Night Light was still conscious. She was actively channelling a huge volume of magic, far greater than one pony could handle without permanent damage.
Dark magic surged its way into Twilight's mind. When her eyes snapped open, she did not see Canterlot. Instead, she stood in the middle of a ruined village, a former pony settlement burned to the ground.
Looking up, Twilight saw a group of pegasi flying toward her. They panted heavily, their wings in an erratic, unsynchronised rhythm. They all sweated profusely, but still they carried on, driven on by draconic slave masters under threat of incineration.
But for two pegasi, even this was not enough to keep them going. After countless hours of work, their wings gave out. They dropped from the sky, crashing to the ground at Twilight’s hooves, limbs twitching with muscle spasms.
Twilight gasped. They were completely emaciated, despite the abundance of food around them. They flew back and forth across the ocean to collect rain clouds for crops they would never eat.
In a flash, the scenery shifted. Now she was inside a volcano, watching earth and crystal ponies work in large chain gangs. Mindlessly, they trudged onward, pulling ore-laden carts, invoking the image of King Sombra’s terrible reign in Twilight's mind. Others were on crude machines, turning the wheels that ground up the rocks prior to smelting.
Though she was not physically there, Twilight could still feel the searing heat that radiated from the forges. It was almost unbearable to watch, but no matter how her instincts pushed her to help, she could not. She was not in control of her journey.
Worse still, she spotted a familiar face among the slaves. She almost didn't recognise her, the crystal pony's mane flat against her face, her once green coat now dulled from despair. It was Peridot Pop, chained to a wheel with a dozen other ponies, endlessly walking in circles as one of many cogs in Torch’s war machine.
Like the pegasi, they were lathered, white foam dripping off their swollen joints. Little care was given to the working conditions. The ground was littered with shark rocks and pieces of scrap metal, and with undead dragons constantly barking orders to keep the slaves moving, injuries were common. Open wounds quickly became infected with putrid sores and a shade of gangrenous green – an inevitable by-product of the disease-rich undead. The sight made Twilight want to throw up.
As If this wasn’t grotesque enough, now Twilight got to see the dark fate of slaves who inevitably collapsed. Whether dead or alive, the result was the same: if they couldn’t work, they were disposed of, dragged away by their hind legs and thrown into the lava pits.
Twilight was stunned. She had never seen such cruelty. It made her whole body shake with both fear and rage. She had to escape, to return to Canterlot and figure out a plan to end the great evil she'd witnessed.
But the Necromancer was not done. Once again, the scenery shimmered and changed, transforming from the steaming pits of lava to a wide, circular chamber. The room was pitch black, save only for the light of dark sorcery streaming from the Necromancers’ horns. It took a moment for Twilight's eyes to adjust, but when they did, the sight before her took her breath away.
The kidnapped unicorns, all sitting in a wide circle, staring into space with blank, pupil-less eyes. It was only down to their shallow breathing that Twilight knew they were alive. Likewise, the Necromancers also looked to be catatonic, a thin stream of purple magic connecting them all together.
Then, a violent shudder rocked the earthen prison, snapping Twilight’s attention up toward the ceiling. Two pairs of huge claws dug into the rock, effortlessly tearing off the roof as a single slab of rock shifted away. Daylight flooded into the room, forcing Twilight to cover her eyes – an action not replicated by the Necromancers.
Before she could question what was going on, the same, scaly hands threw something in with her. Only when Twilight dared to peak from behind her hooves did she see what it was: the rotten corpse of a huge dragon, twice the size of the one Fluttershy rebuked years ago. At first it looked looked like it was falling on top of her, but upon phasing straight through her, Twilight realized why the cultists had kidnapped unicorns specifically.
The Necromancers’ eyes shot open. Their sockets were empty, filled with the same unholy power that Night Light had cast. Chanting an unholy curse in unison, magic shot through the stream to each unicorn. The more they chanted, the more magic they unleashed.
Slowly, the unicorns began levitating off the ground, their bodies unfolding as their anchored chains pulled tight. Soon the spell reached its climax, the unicorns screeching such a loud, blasphemous crescendo, Twilight felt her ears might burst.
Magic spewed forth from their horns, filling the dragon’s corpse until, seconds later, it awoke, rising to its feet and bellowing an even louder, triumphant roar. The Necromancers ceased their chants, closed their eyes and let the slaves crumple to the ground.
Now, bathed in daylight, Twilight could see just how degraded the undead dragon’s flesh had become. It was even worse than the infected slaves she'd seen earlier, with festering wounds full of wriggling maggots, and with some patches of skin missing altogether.
None of this made a difference to its movement. Spreading its decrepit wings, the undead dragon took to the skies with ease, flying as if restored to the prime of its youth. Once it was out of sight, the oubliette’s roof closed.
“This is your fate…”
The voice made her jump.
“Those who oppose Lord Torch, shall end up like this…”
It was in her head, coming from every direction at once.
“No!” Twilight screamed. “This isn’t real! It’s… it’s all an illusion, made to scare ponies into submission.”
“What you see is very real,” replied the voice, its words tinted with an insidious venom. “These are the dragons that will destroy Equestria.”
“I… I…” Twilight collapsed to her haunches. Never had she seen such horror, such cruelty. Even the nightmarish visions of King Sombra couldn’t match this, all at the command of Lord Torch. Could she really stand up to creatures she once thought impossible?
Just as she felt herself slipping into despair, a fresh ray of light caught her attention. At first, she thought it was the ceiling opening again, but this was different. The earth didn’t shake, and no dragon came falling from above.
This light was not a sudden, harsh glare that stung her eyes. Rather,a soft, gentle glow. The images of slavery and suffering were slowly erased, replaced by the vivid colours of Canterlot.
“Twilight? Twilight, are you okay?!”
Spike stood over her, tears staining his cheeks as he shook her awake.
“Ugh, what…?” her friends stood around her, all sharing the same worried look. It took a moment for her to wake up fully, but when she did, the realization of what just happened hit her like a ton of bricks. “Oh no, where’s Night Light? What happened to her spell?”
“She vanished through the portal.” Stepping into view was Stellar Shine, and he looked to be prepared for war. Not only was he wearing a gold-coloured breastplate, he also carried a large, two-headed war-hammer slung over his back. “Starlight and Trixie sent for me with dire news.”
Twilight gulped. “Steller, did something happen while I was out?”
He nodded. “Yes. I’ll give it to you straight, Twilight. You know that cultist you tried to catch? She summoned a dragon before vanishing through a portal. The Crystal Paladins are already fighting, but we can't finish it without you and your friends.”
“Wait, why do you need us?” Dash cocked an eyebrow. “Aren't you Paladins strong enough already?”
“It's not about that,” Stellar retorted, trying to keep an even tone despite her frivolous question. “The citizens of Canterlot need to know they aren’t being abandoned by harmony. As such, we need Twilight to make a show of force, along with each of you, the element bearers.”
“It's bigger than that,” Twilight rose to her hooves. “Equestria is on the cusp of war. We need more than harmony, we need unity. I'll go with you, Stellar. But I want you to deliver the finishing blow.”
Stellar did a double take and blinked at Twilight. “Are... are you sure, Princess Twilight? I don't want to usurp your position.”
Twilight shook her head. “Forget about ranks of authority for now. Just trust me, okay?”
Stellar bowed. “Alright, I'll trust your judgement. But we must hurry. My Paladins cannot hold out for long without fully retaliating.”
“We're with ya, General Stellar,” Applejack beat her chest.
“We all are!” added Twilight to a round of confirmations.
“Don't forget about us!” added Spike, gesturing to Smoulder, who cracked her knuckles.
“We'll show that freak of a dragon whose boss,” she snarled. “And that Ember's followers won't take betrayal lying down!”
“Thank you, all of you,” Stellar smiled, beaming with pride. “Follow me, we haven't much time to lose.”
The monstrosity hadn’t gotten far. Roaring with bestial fury, it blasted everything in sight with long jets of fire. Twilight couldn't believe her eyes. Not only was this dragon identical to the one she'd seen in her vision—wings full of holes, bloated belly, even down to the scar above its right eye—it showed no hesitation in attacking innocent civilians caught in its path.
The three Crystal Paladins had it surrounded. Like Stellar Shine, they wore golden breastplates, but also wore identical helmets, carrying different weapons to suit their fighting style. One was a Pegasus, flying up and over the dragon’s head in a backward loop, then righting himself to strike a flurry of blows with his gold-tipped bo-staff.
The other two were unicorn mares who fought side by side, one of whom danced between the dragons' front legs, striking at its underbelly with a pair of razor-sharp chakrams held in her magic. As soon as a wound was cut open, her partner teleported in, thrusting a claymore straight up to carve out its insides.
The dragon lurched forward. For a moment, it looked like it would keel over. The unicorns teleported away, ready to join their comrade for the final blow. Just as the Pegasus pulled in his wings, diving toward it, it stopped in its tracks. Then, its jaw dropped open and its head pulled back.
Twilight and her friends skidded to a halt as the dragon released an incredible flame jet. So great was the blast, it enveloped the entire street ahead of it, melting the glass off nearby buildings and scorching stone. For ten long seconds, they all watched in horror, expecting to see the remains of three charred carcasses at any moment.
But when the smoke cleared, the opposite was true. The twin unicorns stood firm, shielded from the flames by a barrier of golden magic. The Pegasus stood behind them, sporting a couple of burnt feathers, but otherwise unharmed.
“Twilight, now’s our chance!” Stellar’s magic flared, conjuring golden chains to wrap around the dragon’s limbs.
“Right!” Twilight cast a magical thread that flowed through her friends. “Spike, Smoulder, you’re up first.”
“On it!” they leapt into the air, firing blasts of flame at the zombie dragon’s wings.
The undead roared in frustration, trying to thrash itself loose and retaliate, but Stellar’s chains held strong, allowing the younger dragons to stay safely out of range. Before it could unleash another cone of fire, Twilight’s magic exploded to life.
Each of the six harmonists transformed, their manes doubling in length with streaks of iridescent colours. Overflowing with the power of friendship, together they summoned a huge wave of rainbow magic, crashing over the rotten monster.
Finally, Stellar cast his spell, a huge blade of pure light around his horn. With a single thrust, Stellar stabbed his sword straight through its head. As the grand magics faded, every creature waited with bated breath to see if the spells had been successful. As their vision re-focused, the dragon collapsed, its dark magic extinguished.
When the dust settled, Twilight and co were greeted by a crowd of stunned civilians. They had been hiding behind a magical barrier cast by Princesses Celestia and Luna, amplified by the innate magic of the Friendship Cathedral. At first, no creature said anything, too awestruck to convey what they’d just witnessed.
So, it fell to Twilight to break the ice. “Citizens of Canterlot,” she began. “It’s with a heavy heart that I make this announcement: war has come to Equestria.”
A panicked chatter began to spread. “I won’t lie to any of you,” she continued. “Hard times are coming, but we will persevere. The ones responsible—both for this attack and for the disappearing unicorns—want to divide us through fear. It’d be easy to pin the blame on dragons, especially Lord Ember, who was forcibly overthrown.
“But wild accusations are exactly what the Dragonflame Cult desires. They are a minority of ponies who pursue dragon supremacy, but we are better than that. Where they promote hate, our friendship and love for one another can shine brighter than ever! It won’t be easy, and there’s a lot to prepare for. Equestria has faced many challenges throughout its history, from Wendigos to Tirek and, of course, Moonshadow; all overcome thanks to the power of friendship.
“We’re a nation that’s stronger than ever before. Together, we will defeat the cultists and their zombie dragons, no matter the odds!”
The crowd erupted into a chorus of cheers, many chanting Twilight’s name. “Well said,” Stellar Shine placed a hoof on her shoulder. “I never knew you were so good at impromptu public speaking!”
Twilight blushed. “Well, I have had a lot of practice since you became an Alicorn.”
“My Lord!” the Pegasus paladin walked up to Stellar Shine and saluted. “What’s our next course of action?”
“For the moment, check for civilian casualties,” replied Stellar, before turning back to Twilight. “Let me introduce you to honoured Vindicator Solar Flare. He was one of the first ponies to join the Crystal Paladins after its formation.”
The Pegasus removed his helm, revealing a sky-blue mane that wasn’t far off Rarity’s in style. Now that Twilight got a good look at him, he had a sunburst yellow coat with a golden sun cutie mark to match. “It’s an honour to meet you, Princess Twilight,” Solar knelt at her hooves. “If I may, you were one of my biggest role models growing up. Hearing all about your great feats of heroism, I knew I wanted more from life than just the weather team. Then you opened your friendship school and, well, here I am today.”
“Telling your life story again, Solar?” teased one unicorn, saddling her chakrams.
“Come now, sister,” the other protested, sliding her greatsword back into its sheath. They looked almost identical to one another, both sharing the same amber-coloured coats and streaked, blue and silver manes cut into a Mohawk – the primary difference being which mane-colour was dominant. “It's not every day you get to meet your heroes.”
“Funny,” Solar retorted with a sly grin. “I seem to remember you, Ivy Charm, going full-on fan-filly when Twilight gave her blessings to the order.”
“No, I didn't!” Ivy lied, straightening her posture. “I mean, it was totally amazing to be ordained by the Princess of Friendship, but I in no way freaked out! Back me up here, Caramel.”
“Sorry, but Solar's right,” Caramel nodded. “There's no need to hide it, Ivy. We all had the same reaction.”
“But Caramel...” Ivy whined, shuffling on her front hooves. “In front of the Princess?”
“Wow, Twilight,” Rainbow Dash grinned. “Looks like you've got quite a fan club going on here.”
Twilight resisted the urge to hide behind her wings, despite the ever-growing blush that threatened to consume her face. Instead, she cleared her throat and bowed back to the Paladins. “It's a pleasure to meet you all.”
“The pleasure's all ours,” Stellar gave a gentle smile. “Let me formally introduce you to my best Battle Mages: Ivy and Caramel Charm.”
The two unicorns stood to attention and saluted.
“What's the status on civilian casualties?” he asked.
“None so far,” said Ivy. “We're lucky our preparations were already in place, otherwise, the situation would've been much worse.”
“Most ponies involved suffered only minor burns,” added Caramel. “A handful of severe cases, but none that are life-threatening.”
“I should add our location helped a great deal,” said Solar. “Despite its rotten appearance, that dragon was physically tough. Were it not for the collective magic of the Cathedral, we may not have been able to hold it off.”
“Thank you for your report,” he turned his attention to the crowd ahead of him. “For now, help the wounded get the medical attention they need. The Princesses and I have much to discuss about the forthcoming war.”
“We'll help with the dragon citizens,” Spike volunteered. “They must have a ton of questions right now, and without Lord Ember to answer? It could get ugly.”
“We've both spent a ton of time around Ponies,” added Smoulder. “No offence, Twilight, but every creature needs to hear a dragons' take on this problem. I don't think they'll trust us, otherwise.”
“I agree,” Twilight nodded and turned to her friends. “I know I've asked a lot already, but I need one more favour.”
“If you're wantin' us to help out the paladins,” replied Applejack, “then it's no trouble at all.”
“After all, it is what we came here to do, isn't it?” added Rarity.
“I still have tons of stuff left over from the party!” Pinkie bounced on the spot, eager to get the fun and games started after being silent for so long.
“I wish I could join you all,” Fluttershy grimaced. “But the petting zoo animals must be so frightened right now! I need to make sure they're all okay.”
“Don't sweat it, Fluttershy,” Rainbow Dash reassured her. “Do what you gotta do. I can always keep the flyers company if you need me to.”
Fluttershy smiled back, breathing a small sigh of relief. “Thank you, Dash. Maybe a short flight would help them relieve stress.”
“I knew I could count on my friends,” Twilight bowed and turned back to Stellar. “I'll reach out to Princess Cadence once we're inside the cathedral.”
Though Twilight appeared outwardly calm, she felt a fresh swell of anxiety deep in her gut. The decisions she made today would affect the entire future of Equestria. No matter how many talks of lectures of guidance she'd given over the years, nothing left her with greater uncertainty than a war with undead dragons.
They left port at moonrise. The sky ship Luna’s Blessing soared above the clouds; its crew protected from the wind by unicorn magic. While Moonlight Eclipse preferred to fly under her own power, she always felt a certain serenity as these modified Equestrian vessels drifted through the sky at a leisurely pace.
“Drifting” was an apt word for this mission. Crossing over into the Dragon Lands, stealth was priority number one, and that meant reducing the ship’s propellers to minimum thrust. Moonlight was just glad Rainbow Dash wasn’t among them. For all her skills, patience wasn’t one of them. She would’ve gone stir crazy three times over by now!
“Captain, what’s our ETA?” she asked, turning to face Captain Skyworth, a peach-coloured earth pony with a brunette mane.
“Should be at t’ drop zone at the stroke o’ midnight,” he dusted his curly moustache with one hoof as he eased the ship’s wheel to the right. “Ye be certain I can trust those dragon scallywags yer workin’ with?”
“With my life,” Moonlight replied sternly. “They’re part of the Canterlot Night Guard and have demonstrated unwavering loyalty to Lord Ember. You worry about navigation, and I’ll worry about order among my squad, do I make myself clear?”
“Aye, ma’am,” Skyworth huffed, tugging uncomfortably at the red bandana around his neck.
“Good. I’ll tell my squad to make drop-off preparations. Try not to set the ship on fire in the meantime, okay?”
“I told ye before, that was one time!” the Captain grumbled. “…Alright, maybe three, but ‘twas still a heroic end fer such a fine vessel, I tell ya!”
Making her way down the stairs to the lower deck, Moonlight knocked on the recreation cabin’s door. Upon entering, she saw her fellow lunar guardspony playing a quick game of Ogres and Oubliettes with their dragon allies to pass the time.
“Commander Moonlight,” the bat pony stood to attention and saluted. “Forgive my impatience, but is it time to start the mission?”
“As intuitive as ever, Star Spectre,” Moonlight smiled at the trans stallion. “Be at ease, we’ve got ten minutes until we reach the drop zone. I’ve just come to review the plan before we jump.”
“Works for me,” said the stocky dragon with similarly grey scales, folding up her GM screen. “Need me to fire up the projector?”
“If you would, Smoky,” she gestured to the white screen in front of her, as Smoky slipped the map under it. “Our primary goal for this mission is intelligence. We need to get as much info as we can on the cult’s battleplans, so Stellar and the Princesses can formulate an effective strategy against them.
“As such, I ask our dragon assistants here to lead us in a ruse. They will put us ponies in chains—fake, of course—as soon as we land. We need to convince the cultists that we are their slaves, and once their back is turned, we slip into the shadows to find those plans.”
“Me and Sulphur will try and coax information out of the guards,” he added. “I doubt the dragons will speak common equish in front of the slaves.”
“That might take a bit of work,” said Sulphur, a heavy-set dragon with green scales and a noticeable overbite. “If push comes to shove, we’ll have a fight on our claws, which may provide a minute or two’s worth of distraction.”
“Not a problem,” Spectre stretched his wings. “We’ll be in and out faster than you can say ‘Sonic Rainboom’!”
“Let’s not get carried away, Spectre,” Moonlight replied with a mild admonishment. “Speed is important, but haste could get us killed. That’s why we’ll all be carrying shadefool grenades, just in case.”
“Of course,” he cleared his throat and lowered his wings. “Sorry, ma’am.”
“It’s quite alright,” she waved her hoof in dismissal. “Just cover my back, and we’ll be fine. Any questions?”
Sulphur raised his hand. “What happens if we run into aerial patrols?”
“We won’t know until we break cloud cover,” Moonlight’s voice dropped to a more serious tone. “As such, keep your eyes peeled. We’ll be gliding toward the drop zone, but we may have to choose another location, depending on who you encounter.”
“Yeah, I’ve got a question, too,” asked Smoky as he switched off the projector. “Y’know that weird crystal thing on your breastplate? It ain’t on ours. Not tryin’ to sound ungrateful, I’m just curious. What’s it do?”
“These are our shadow orbs,” Moonlight answered, holding her hoof beneath it. With a flick of her wrist, the gem began to glow, revealing an eerie green eye in the centre. “They’re crafted by Princess Luna herself specifically for the lunar pegasi. It contains the same magic that turned us into bat ponies to begin with, allowing us to walk through shadows unseen.”
To demonstrate this, Moonlight picked up one of the tableside lamps and blew it out. Now with a patch of shade to work with, all she had to do was step into it and, just like that, she vanished from sight.
“Woah!” both Smoky and Sulphur gasped.
“Pretty slick, huh?” Spectre grinned.
“All creatures have magic,” Moonlight continued, her body slowly uncovered as she stepped back into the light. “But so far, shadow melding has only worked on children of the night. We think it has something to do with our unnatural origins, although we aren’t certain.”
“Besides,” added Spectre, “you guys don’t need to sneak like we do. You’ll blend in well enough without us!”
“So long as we’re not in your way, me and Smokey will always have your backs.”
Once Moonlight’s body regained visibility, the voice of Captain Skyworth echoed down the voice tubes. “All hooves on deck! The hour has struck, an’ we’re ready for deployment!”
“Alright, armour up, every creature. Don’t forget your weapons and equipment packs. That means you, too, Spectre,” Moonlight snickered.
“Yeah, yeah, I heard ya,” he said dismissively, arching an eyebrow. “I've got everything prepared in advance this time.”
“Good. Now, every creature, be on deck in no less than five minutes, ready for the jump, got it?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Now fully prepared, the Lunar Guard convened on the starboard deck.
The lead unicorn met them there, saluting Moonlight. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“Ready!” the squad said together.
“Alright, lowering the shields in five. Good luck out there!”
Lowering their goggles, the Lunar Guard stepped up to the ship’s edge.
“Five… four… three… two… one…”
The magic bubble faded away, and the Lunar Guard jumped.
Leaning forward to pick up speed, they soon broke through the cloud cover, greeting the charred landscape that defined Ember’s kingdom. Without the night vision of the lunar pegasi, the dragons could see little of the ground beneath them, but it didn’t matter. The bright, golden orange glow of the erupting volcano in the near distance was all the beacon they needed.
At long last, the dragons were home. At first glance it had changed little. It was still a land filled with rivers of molten lava, rocky crevasses, and sulphuric fumes – but they knew it was only skin deep. It would be easy to pretend everything was fine, but they all knew such fantasies wouldn’t last for long. The Dragonflame cult was out for blood, working just below the surface to undermine the unity both Twilight and Ember had worked so hard to build.
That’s why they were here. Even if they couldn’t take Torch head on, they could still give Ember a head start.
“Alright, every creature,” Moonlight announced. “On my command, we break. Now!”
The night guards threw open their wings, catching the wind like a parachute and slowing their fall. Leaning inwards, they each turned into a circular flight pattern, with the dragons flying just above their pony comrades.
“Bank to seven-o'clock, change heading and drop fifty meters,” commanded Moonlight, raising her left wing to roll into a short dive.
She only saw the bloat dragon for a moment, but it was enough to validate the descriptive name. A truly enormous, slow-moving beast that dwarfed ponies like her by a nearly incomprehensible magnitude – barely kept aloft by its stubby wings. She could easily imagine what it would look like up close: decaying scales dropping off its flabby belly, maggots crawling all over.
Were she not a disciplined combatant, Moonlight would've wretched at the thought. Though she knew encountering one was inevitable, she made a point to avoid them until absolutely necessary.
Just as she levelled out, a flash of red scales caught her eye. “Air patrol, right below us!” she warned. “We're still high, so they won't see us. Pull up twenty meters and straighten out our path. We'll fly parallel to the volcano at our eleven-o'clock and hide behind the ash cloud.”
“Aye, aye,” her squad sounded out, flapping their wings hard to ascend. Soon, they passed the small patrol, only to run into another obstacle.
“Second bloat, dead ahead!” cried Smoky, pointing to a yellow-scaled monstrosity emerging from the smoke.
Spectre had worse news. “Second group patrol, five of 'em, ascending from below at five-o'clock!”
“Commander, I still see the patrol from before,” added Sulphur. “They're heading right for us, seven-o'clock.”
“Damn! They've got us surrounded,” Smoky cursed. “What do we do, boss?”
Moonlight had no immediate answer. Damn the luck! She scanned the sky ahead for a way out. “I have an idea, but it'll be risky,” she said. “On my command, dive into the ash-cloud. We can hide there until the patrols pass.”
“You sure, commander?” Spectre asked. “If we're unlucky and get disorientated, it's all over.”
“It's risky alright, but we'll make our own luck,” she glanced around to note their pursuer’s positions. “Alright, ash cloud in approximately one-hundred meters. Tighten your goggles, we’re moving in!” With one last gulp of air, she lead night guards into a dive, dropping head-first into the rising gas plume.
The burning jot dust blasted against her skin, the force of which threatened to knock her off course. Gritting her teeth, she fought the urge to breathe, wiping the ash from her goggles as many times as she dared. Though she could hardly see, she knew her squad was still close by. Like her, they would hold strong, grim and bearing the pain to maintain flight unity. It took all her flying skills just to maintain course, threading the needle between the molten plumes of lava and the rotten bulk of the dragon patrols.
Then, she noticed Sulphur looking back at her, using sign language to communicate. “I can't hold on much longer!” he signalled, fighting with equal measure to remain stable.
“We're almost there,” Spectre signed to offer some mild reassurance. “We're close to the ground; I can almost see it. Orders, commander?”
Before Moonlight could reply, her wings gave out and she dropped, landing hard and rolling over several times before she skidded to a halt, mere centimetres away from a pyroclastic flow.
Spectre, Smoky and Sulphur followed suit, with the latter two pushing themselves just to fly a little further and splash down into a lake of molten mud. For a second, they remained submerged, but soon popped back up to climb ashore.
Though the dragons had plenty of cuts to show for their experience, the bat ponies were arguably in worse shape. Despite their efforts to keep their breath held, they coughed and sputtered violently, their bodies tried to expunge all the rock particles they inhaled prior to landing.
“You guys okay there?” asked Smoky.
“We'll be fine,” Spectre insisted before coughing up a small puddle of blood. “I've got a couple healing potions in my saddle bag. It'll keep us going for now.”
“Good thing I reminded you, huh?” Moonlight threw a jab at his front leg.
“Ow! Careful with those hooves, Moonlight!” he groaned, retrieving four glass vials. “Did we lose 'em?”
Moonlight looked around her. “Yep, the coast is clear. We've earned a breather, but stay alert. Like I said before, we make our own luck.”
Spectre handed a vial to Moonlight before offering the others to his dragon squadmates.
“Nah, I’m good,” said Sulphur. “I feel better after that lava bath.”
“Suit yourselves,” Spectre shrugged, downing his potion before replacing the remaining vials. “Just take care in close combat. Freshly healed wounds are an easy exploit.”
“You don’t need to tell me twice,” Sulphur shrugged. “Anyway, tell me when you’re ready and we’ll put you in chains.”
Spectre smirked, cocking an eyebrow. “At your favourite part already, eh?”
Sulphur just gave a blank stare. “Wasn't this Moonlight's plan?”
“He’s pullin’ ya leg, pal,” Smoky patted his fellow dragon on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.”
Sulphur shrugged. “Ponies are strange sometimes.”
“To answer your question, yes, you may put us in chains,” Moonlight sighed. “But first, we need to don our disguises.”
“Comin’ right up!” opening his other saddle bag, Spectre removed and unfolded a pair of ragged, grey cloaks, just big enough to shroud his and Moonlight's bodies without getting in the way. “Not exactly the height of fashion, but they’ll do.”
“I’m sure even Rarity understands function over style,” Moonlight said, putting on her cloak and removing her goggles. “Let the charade begin.”
The chains around the lunar pegasi limbs clanged as they walked. Behind them, Smoky and Sulphur marched, with Sulphur barking orders and pretending to kick Moonlight when they sighted the undead guards.
“Get your butts in gear, stupid ponies!” Sulphur sneered.
“Halt!” one guard called in draconic, a half-skeletal youngster wielding a halberd. “State your purpose.”
“We caught these ponies snoopin' around the foot of the volcano,” Smoky replied in the same tongue, pulling Spectre's chain taut. “Figured they were tryin' to escape.”
The guard narrowed his eyes at Smoky. “I dunno, they look pretty shifty,” he said. “You sure they weren't up to no good?”
“Who cares?” Sulphur shrugged. “Just chuck 'em in the mines like all the others. What d'ya think they'll do?”
The other guard dropped to one knee, getting a better look at Spectre. The pony's head hung limp, his knees shaking with fear. “Like all the others...” the guard muttered, scratching a rotten scab off his nose as he stood up.
“Look, they're chained up and everythin',” Smoky groaned, tapping his foot impatiently. “If they step outta line, they'll get the beatin' of a lifetime, just as ordered. So how's about you let us through already, huh?”
The guards exchanged an uncertain glance, then shrugged, pulling back their halberds. “Fine. But Lord Toch sent his deployment orders yesterday. You'd better get on that, if you don't wanna be left behind.”
“Err, where do we get them orders, again?” Sulphur asked, scratching his head to further feign ignorance.
“What, did your brains rot before resurrection?” the first guard groaned and rolled his eyes. “All written orders are sent to the guard's chambers. That's where they always are!”
“Which ones?”
“I don't give a shit!” the guard slapped Sulphur with the flat of his halberd's blade. “Just pick one or ask Garble. Now, get these ponies working before I change my mind!”
“Alright, alright, we get the picture,” Smoky said defensively. Flicking the chains like the reigns on an antique carriage, he yelled in Equish, “Get a move on ya stinkin' mules. We've got work to do!”
The Lunar Guard shambled forward, waiting until they were out of earshot to drop their act.
“Did you have to snap the chains so hard?” Spectre groaned toward Smoky, rubbing his slightly bruised hoof.
“Sorry, but I had to make it convincing,” he shrugged. “So, where to now?”
“First off, we find the slave pits,” said Moonlight. “You and Sulphur can sweet talk the guards, while Spectre and I get some intel from the slaves.”
“And maybe we can bust 'em out when the guards' backs are turned?” added Spectre, hopefully.
“Absolutely not,” she snapped, giving him a stern glare. “Stick to the plan. There's no telling what the guards will do if they recapture slaves, and we can't risk the air ship getting shot down. We aren't prepared for a rescue mission.”
“What's going on down there?”
Moonlight froze, silencing her allies with a raised hoof. A bloated, obese dragon came plodding down the hallway. It was a smaller variety of undead, but carried the same grotesque proportions of its larger relatives, waddling forward on legs too small to support its massive girth, barely able to fit through the tunnel.
“Ma'am,” Sulphur and Smoky saluted.
“Oh, cut it with the formalities,” the undead dragon said in draconic, rolling her eyes. “I'm not much higher in rank than you. What are you doing out here anyway?”
“Catchin' runaways,” Smoky grinned. “Guards just let us back in. We'll grab our orders once the ponies are back in their proper place.”
“I was just going there, myself,” The bloated dragon scratched her chin. “Want me to escort you?”
“Sure, why not?” Sulphur forced a smile. “We're kinda lost, actually. Easy to do when it ain't your regular volcano.”
“Too true,” the bloat dragon laughed. “My name's Putrice, by the way. Don't remember my original name, don't much care.”
“Nice to meet you, Putrice,” Smoky lied. “My name's Smoky,”
“And I'm Sulphur.”
“A pleasure. Follow me.” Putrice leant on her right leg, slowly turning on her heel to face the other direction. Despite her pace, it only took a minute to arrive at the slave pits. There, hundreds of ponies were chained together in long lines, chiselling away at the volcanic rock. Streams of magma burst from tactically opened cracks, channelled into run off trenches mere millimetres away from working slaves. Cuts and burns were amongst the most common injuries slaves suffered, with many ponies sporting dirty bandages wrapped around the affected areas. It was first aid at its most basic, but it did the job, allowing them to continue their work.
But what struck all members of the Lunar Guard the most was the heat; the one thing Twilight’s vision couldn’t account for. Already, Moonlight and Spectre were sweating like pigs. If they didn’t get out of their cloaks soon, they’d almost certainly become just another victim to Torch’s brutal slave program – a fact not lost on Sulphur and Smoky. Though they kept up their veneer of confidence, they both knew their charade couldn’t last forever.
“Hey, looks like you’re in luck,” Putrice gestured to the spiral strip’s head. “There's a space at the top, just opened.”
“Another one drop dead, huh?” Sulphur said with an exaggerated sneer. “Why bother keepin’ such weak creatures alive?”
“And waste valuable magic?” Putrice scoffed. “They’re not worth the trouble. Anyway, speaking of slaves, what'll be their punishment?”
Smoky stared blankly. “What?”
“Y'know, punishment? For escaping? You're lettin’ your slaves off scot free, are ya?”
Smoky and Sulphur looked at each other. “Now that you mention it,” said Sulphur, “I guess we'll think of something. Just a matter of how much we wanna rough 'em up.”
Putrice shrugged. “Whatever. Not my problem. You need anything else, or can I go back to patrol duty?”
“Actually, there is one more thing,” Smoky rubbed the back of his head. “Where're the guard's chambers again? We’re a tad lost.”
“Oh, that's easy,” Putrice pointed toward a tunnel entrance to her right. “Just down that hallway, can't miss 'em. Better get there quick, though. General Fume wants all new recruits to be prepared for deployment ASAP.”
“New recruits?” Sulphur asked.
“You are the new recruits right?” Putrice cocked an eyebrow. “The old guard knows these tunnels like the back of their claws.”
“Oh! Of course, of course,” Sulphur added hastily. “We've been here a while, but not enough to be considered 'new', y'know?”
“Those cultists are pretty strict with their ranks, eh?” Putrice laughed, slapping Sulphur on the back. “I bet they’ll send you into the desert with the rest of the young ones. Then again, if you suck up to General Fume, you could get some great privileges, like I did!”
Privilege is one way to put it... thought Spectre.
“Anyway, I should get back to patrol duty. If you need anything, give me a holler, okay?”
“Sure thing,” Smoky turned his attention to the bat ponies. “Alright maggots, pick up an axe and get to work already!”
Heads hung low, Moonlight and Spectre skulked over onto the spiral. Grabbing a pair of pickaxes with their teeth, they half-heartedly began chipping at the rock like every other slave in the chain gang.
“Put a good word in to the guards for us, would ya?” Sulphur called as Putrice turned to leave.
“Sure thing, buddy!”
Once Putrice was out of sight, Sulphur gave the signal, puffing three consecutive rings of smoke toward his squad.
Right away, Spectre tore off his cloak and threw it into the lava. “Damn, that thing is stifling!” he groaned, snapping free of the fake chains. “So, what did the ugly thing say?”
“Our orders are in the guard's chambers,” Sulphur explained. “We've gotta be fast, though. The new recruits are due for inspection by a general.”
“Did they mention a specific time frame?” Moonlight asked.
“Nope, just 'soon',” said Smoky. “I would've pressed her for specifics, but she started getting suspicious.”
“Understandable,” Moonlight gave a reassuring smile. “We'll search the first unoccupied chamber we find. Smoky, I suggest you and Sulphur lead the way. Spectre and I can hide in your shadow.”
“Got it, let's go!”
“Wait!” the strained voice of an elderly stallion cried out, his chains clanging tight. “I... know your kind. You're Lunar Guard ponies, aren't you? Please, set us free... The dragons can't take us all on at once!”
“I'm sorry...” Moonlight replied, biting her lip. “We cannot.”
“Why?” Another pony yelled, a younger stallion with front hooves wrapped in bandages. “You are Princess Luna's finest warriors! Your exploits are legendary, even before the fall. Please, save us!”
Now an entire row of ponies were pulling against their restraints, all desperately crying to be set free. A fresh pang of guilt surged through Moonlight's gut. She knew this was coming, it was an inevitable consequence, but that didn't lessen the dread she felt over the slave ponies' fate.
She had joined the Lunar Guard many years ago, proudly taking the responsibility of watching over Mother Moon's subjects in the waking world, while she traversed the realm of dreams. Every instinct told Moonlight to shatter open the shackles of the suffering, to deprive the dragons of their workforce.
But she knew better. Where would they go? There was no room on the airship, even if it could land safely amongst all the dragon patrols. There were very few pegasi among the slaves, and those that were here were in no state to fly.
“C'mon Moonlight,” said Spectre with a bitter edge to his voice. Surely his leader wouldn't recklessly break her own rules, would she? “You said this isn't a rescue mission, so what are we waiting for? Let’s get those plans and get out!”
Moonlight sighed. Trotting over to the brave elder stallion, she sat down and held up his forehoof in hers. “Listen, we can't help you right now, but do not lose hope. Equestria is on the cusp of a war, and we're here to give the Princesses every advantage they can get, no matter how small. It will be hard, but make no mistake; we will emerge victorious, and we will come back for you.
“Do whatever you need to survive, even if that means helping the dragons in their war effort. Keep your faith in Mother Moon, and one day soon, your prayers will be answered. I swear by her name, we will return. For now, remember and live by these words: friendship is magic; magic never dies.”
“I—” the stallion began, cut off by a sudden fit of coughing. “I will do what I can, thank you. My name is Silver Soil. I hope we meet again one day.”
“Quit your blabbering, puny ponies!” a dragon's voice bellowed from the exit tunnel, catching Silver's attention. “You'd better not be slacking off!”
Silver turned to warn the Lunar Guard, but they were already gone. For an all too brief moment, he had allowed himself to hope for rescue, and for his torment at the claws of Torch to be over. However, what he had been given this day was still a valuable asset: knowledge. Knowledge that Peridot's final letter had reached Princess Twilight and intended, and that the pony settlers of the Dragon lands had not been forgotten. That, and he now had a new mantra to maintain both his sanity, and the feeling of hope among his fellow slaves.
Picking up his pickaxe again, he began to chant, “Friendship is magic; magic never dies.”
The Lunar Guard had made a narrow escape. From here, Moonlight could only hope the coming guards would not suppress the slaves’ newfound hope.
The tunnel ahead of her was wider than the first, and dimly lit. Only a scattering of torches every few meters existed to stave off the darkness, plenty for the infiltrators to work with. Every time a patrol came through, Sulphur and Smoky would position themselves in front of a torch, casting a long shadow for the bat ponies to blend in to.
It didn’t take them long to reach the guards’ quarters: a long hallway of small chambers securely locked behind thick iron doors. It was more reminiscent of a dungeon than anything a creature would call cosy. Looking through the small, barred windows in each door, Sulphur and Smoky found the rooms to be unoccupied.
A quick breath of fire from Sulphur made short work of the first lock, reducing it to a small pile of molten metal at Spectre’s hooves.
“Not what you’d call inconspicuous…” he muttered. At first glance, the chambers didn't contain anything noteworthy. A small pool of lava for a dragon to bathe in, a pit filled with miscellaneous plunder, and a single mound of melted rock that likely served as a personal storage area.
Moonlight investigated the mound first, cracking it open with one good kick and spilling the contents over her rear hooves. Hidden amongst the pile of crude weapons and a light armour, she found her prize: a letter, sealed with a dragon's head emblem made from purple wax.
“Aha!” Breaking the seal, she hastily unfurled the scroll, only for her expression to drop upon reading its contents. “Of course, it's written in draconic,” she grumbled.
“Let me take a look,” Sulphur picked up the scroll, pulling it open between his claws. Then, he grinned. “Looks like we hit the jackpot, friends! Says here this dragon’s headed for some serious sunshine in the southern deserts, and he ain’t alone.”
“Is that where they're all going?” asked Spectre.
“I doubt it,” Moonlight shook her head. “They won’t put all their eggs in one basket, they’re smarter than that. Best check the other chambers and see if their notes corroborate.”
“Coast is clear for now,” Smoky said from the doorway.
The next three rooms were identical to the first, right down to the written orders concerning the 'desert horde'. The fourth letter, however, issued the dragon to participate on an altogether different war front.
Sulphur's eyes went wide. “I don't believe it...”
“What? What’re they planning?” asked Moonlight.
“They want to attack Griffonstone!”
Spectre titled his head to one side. “Griffonstone? Why there, of all places? I don’t recall Griffons ever giving a dragon any gruff…” he paused. “Well, no more than any other creature.”
“Griffons may not be friendly, but they have changed in recent years,” Sulphur explained. “They’re a staunch ally of Equestria now. I suspect Torch sees any non-dragon creature as the enemy.”
“Does the letter say anything else?” Moonlight prompted.
“Only that this one’s part of a drop team. Beyond that, they're to occupy Griffonstone and await further orders.”'
“Wait, did you say 'occupy'?” Spectre rubbed his chin.
“Yeah, why?”
“You know the train line that runs up to Griffonstone, right? Well, where else does that line connect to?”
Sulphur thought for a moment. “Well, there is Yak Yakistan...”
“Further than that.”
Moonlight's eyes went wide. “The Crystal Empire! They want to succeed where Moonshadow failed.”
“Fat chance!” Smoky scoffed. “Have you seen how much firepower the Empire has these days? They'd be blown to bits before you can say 'see you in Tartarus'!”
“Good point, Smoky,” added Sulphur. “There's one other thing that bothers me. Why would they need Griffonstone first? Undead dragons don’t tire, why don’t they fly straight to Canterlot?”
“That, and how they're using slave labour...” Moonlight trailed off, the answer dawning on her. “What if it's not to do with the dragons at all?”
Spectre gave her a quizzical look. “What’re you talking about? Why wouldn't it be the dragons?”
“That's just it, they're not in control. Whether he thinks it or not, Torch is just a puppet Dragon Lord. It's the necromancers who hold the real power!”
“You mean they ain't undead?” asked Sulphur.
“I can't say for sure, but I think they're living ponies. They need food, water and rest just as much as we do. That's why they use slaves, because otherwise, they wouldn't have the resources to keep the unicorns alive. From what Twilight described, they need unicorns as living batteries to power their necromancy.”
“How ironic,” Sulphur chuckled. “When you break it down, they're no different to the ponies they hate so much.”
“Think we should grab a few more plans?” Spectre asked. “Just in case there's another war front we don't know about?”
“There's no time!” Smoky cried, bursting into the room. “Patrol's coming, get in position, quick!”
Grabbing the note, Spectre stuffed it into his saddlebag and vanished into the shadows with Moonlight. Likewise, Smoky and Sulphur made a hasty exit, standing to attention outside the room.
General Fume had arrived. At first, they didn’t recognise her. Her wings had been picked clean of all skin and muscle tissue, but her lanky frame and purple scales still made her recognizable, even to dragons who only knew her in passing, or as part of Garble's crew.
Leaning over, Fume eyed the melted locks with suspicion.
“You!” she snapped, shooting Smoky an icy glare. “Mind telling me what all this is about?”
“W-well, you see, the thing is,” Smoky gulped, racking his brain for a viable excuse. “We didn't wanna make a fuss or anythin', but we were ordered to check on the new recruits.”
“Yeah! That's what it was,” Sulphur added. “They refused to come out, the lazy bastards, so we busted in their doors and dragged 'em out with our own two claws! I tell ya, they sure did get a move on after a good old-fashioned butt-kicking.”
For several tense seconds, Fume maintained her hard stare. “And you're sure you didn't just forget where your orders were?”
“Well... I mean... we... sorta...” Smoky made a show of stuttering. Better to follow the superior's half-truth if it meant getting rid of her sooner.
“Alright, you got us,” Sulphur sighed, throwing up his claws. “We're sorry, general. Brain's still not fully recovered from our ressure—”
Before he could finish, Fume lashed out, swiping her claws across their faces. “Consider this your first and only warning!” Fume growled. “Laziness will not be tolerated! Not by you, or any other dragon. Lord Torch gave you the gift of undeath, and he can just as easily take it away. Got it?”
“Yes ma'am!” Smoky and Sulphur said together.
“Good. Be glad you got off lightly.” With her reprimands delivered, Fume turned away. But as she was about to leave, a faint glimmer of metal flashed in the corner of her eye.
Spectre had dropped his shadow meld too soon.
Shoving the two living dragons aside, Fume burst into the room, coming face to face with the Lunar Guard. “Intruders!” her voice boomed through the halls. “Guards! Kill the spies!”
Smoky reacted immediately, grabbing Fume's head between his claws and snapping her neck with one twist. The undead dragon fell to the ground, head hanging limp to one side, and for that moment Moonlight assumed she was dead.
Then, Fume grabbed Smoky’s ankle and rolled sharply right. In one motion, she reversed her position with the dragon insurgent, using his body as a platform to lunge straight for the bat ponies.
On reflex, Spectre jumped back and fanned his wings, whipping out his sai daggers just in time to skim the middle blades across his attacker's right arm. A shallow cut, but it did the job. He'd struck a nerve, and Fume's arm recoiled, giving Moonlight just enough room to dodge left.
With Fume off balance, Moonlight struck, reversing her blade to slash up and through the undead's neck. In one cut, she decapitated fume, her headless body crashing into the dirt.
Sulphur helped Smoky to his feet, but there was no time to celebrate. Already, a group of four undead guards were rushing to their location.
Sulphur and Smoky looked at each other. “Buckball charge?” asked Smoky.
“Buckball charge,” confirmed Sulphur. Turning their shoulders, the living dragons bolted down the tunnel, slamming into the guards and bowling them over with their superior weight – sustaining only minor cuts in the process.
“Since when was buckball so violent?” Spectre scratched the back of his head.
“It's a dragonlands variant,” Sulphur grinned.
“No time for chit chat!” Moonlight snapped, urging her squad members forward as she galloped past the prone guards. “Spectre, did you remember the smoke bombs?”
“You bet I do!” Leaping into a short glide, Spectre pulled a small, ceramic orb from his saddle bag. Lighting the bomb's fuse was easy. Scraping his dagger against the wall gave him all the sparks he needed. Aiming it behind him, however, was another matter.
“Heads up!” Spectre called. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the bomb as soon as he landed, rolling it past his squad mates like a bowling ball. A second later, the chemicals ignited, enveloping them in a thick cloud of grey smoke. A perfect shot.
Battle horns echoed through the tunnels. Dragon voices boomed over the din, “Death to living traitors! Death to pony scum!” At every intersection, a new patrol came charging in, eager to be the first to deliver the ponies' heads to their masters. But none were a match for the one-two punch of muscle and finesse that was the Lunar Guard squad.
Time after time, the living dragons struck hard, slamming headlong into the crazed enemy ranks. With only light armour plating and their thick hides for protection, they easily endured the worst of the undead's attacks. Then, when the time was right, the bat ponies would slip past and slice away at the enemy limbs, slowing them just long enough to make their escape.
Yet an unspoken worry still lingered between the Equestrian loyalists. Each passing pack yielded fewer and fewer kills. As skilled as they were, they had their limits, while the undead would never tire. Eventually, they would have far more than average foot soldiers to contend with.
All too soon did their worries bear fruit.
Putrice. The bloated dragon they ran into not half an hour before, blocked the way out into the slave pits. “Traitors!”
Smoky skidded to a halt and slid under Putrice’s left hook. The punch impacted the wall with a loud crunch, showering Smoky with shards of shattered rock. Grabbing the first of his twin-maces, Smoky sprang forward through the zombie’s guard and slammed it into her left shoulder.
She didn’t even flinch. Instead, she grinned. “My turn.”
Before Smoky knew it, he was airborne, flung across the tunnel by a single punch. A second later, he was on the ground, his head throbbing like never before. He tried to stand back up, but with his vision blurry, he only managed to fall backwards into Sulphur’s arms.
Moonlight was next to jump into combat, slicing at Putrice’s belly with a flurry of attacks. Putrice laughed, thrusting her belly forward. Moonlight ducked, rolled under the dragon's belly and stabbed her blades upwards, cutting straight through the soft flesh.
“Argh!” Putrice snarled and gritted teeth. “You’ll pay for that!”
“Smoky, Sulphur, protect our rear,” Moonlight ordered. “Spectre, help me deal with the hulk!”
“Got it!” the duo replied, withdrawing their maces and bucklers just as the sound of echoing footsteps caught their ears.
Putrice lurched forward and tried to stomp Moonlight's head in, but the bat pony was too fast, leaping back before Putrice got close.
Spectre entered the fight next. Sai daggers drawn, he lunged forward, pierced the undead’s gut and, in the same motion, swiped outwards, tearing open a wide gash that haemorrhaged green puss.
Putrice reeled once again. She stumbled forward and tried to grab onto Spectre’s wings, but as before, he slipped through her grasp. Each time she tried to throw her weight around, the nimble bat ponies withdrew, dancing back and forth to cut away at her girth, little by little.
But it wasn't much. Despite the bleeding, Putrice's fury refused to relent, littering the tunnel with impact craters of shattered rock. Whatever punishment the bat ponies threw at her, they never reached her vital areas.
Desperate to break the stalemate, she cast her gaze back to the traitor dragons. As commanded, they stood a good few paces back, reflecting her own purpose as a living wall against the guards scrambling to get past.
This gave her an idea.
So, she played the pony’s game a little longer, repeating the pattern of attack and retreat. Then, after the sixth repetition, she feinted with a punch, only to stop half-way and spit out a fireball instead.
The bat ponies pulled in their wings and dropped, only to realize the blast was not meant for them. The attack shot over their heads and hit Sulphur square on the back.
“Sulphur, no!” Spectre cried, but he could do nothing. His scales were barely singed, but the attack made him flinch mid-parry, leaving him open to the enemy's blades, slicing deep gashes out of his arm, severing tendons.
Sulphur staggered back, his arm falling limp by his side, blood pouring from his wounds. His head suddenly felt lighter, a wave of dizziness threatening to overcome him.
Noticing this, Smoky did what he could to cover for his friend, forcing the soldiers back with his own flaming plumes. But this wouldn’t last for long. For every step he made in one direction, the undead would push through the opposite gap.
“Could use some back up here, guys!” he grunted, scraping up some loose rocks to throw in the undead's faces.
“Kinda got problems of our own!” Spectre replied, sliding up against the wall, narrowly avoiding Putrice's foot.
Despite his dire injuries, Sulphur didn't stay down for long. A quick puff of fire to cauterize his wound, and he was back in action. Yet no matter how much he gritted his teeth—trying to parry attacks with his good arm—he couldn't hold back the undead's ferocity. With every cut and thrust, they pushed themselves forward, and their numbers were growing.
None of the Lunar Guard knew their exact numbers. They were too focused on the foe directly in front of them. But for every one that fell, two more took their place. Adding to this, Putrice was using breath attacks more frequently, belching fire left and right to further keep the bat ponies at arm's length.
Dragon fire… The concept lingered in Moonlight’s mind. If she was to break the stalemate in her squad's favour, they would have to get creative. “Spectre, hold back a minute!”
“What?” Spectre grinted, dodging another of Putrice's punches. “Don't tell me you're gonna fight this thing alone?!”
“Not for long, I won't!” Moonlight lunged at Putrice, boosted by a quick thrust of her wings, and slashed her swords down across Putrice's gut.
“Is that the best you've got?” Putrice laughed.
“By Celestia's fury!” Moonlight bellowed. To the untrained ear, this was a simple battle cry. But to Spectre, it was the coded phrase he'd been dying to hear.
“Comin' right up!” Retreating a step, Spectre pulled a grenade from his pack. It was a rare occasion he got to use these. For the precision assassins of the Lunar Guard, grenades were uncharacteristically crude, much more suited to open combat where the risk of collateral damage was minimal. But when it came to Celestia's Fury, Spectre was all too happy to demonstrate the creativity of the Lunar Guard.
He didn't bother to light the fuse. He didn't need to. Instead, with all the strength he could muster, he lobbed the grenade at Putrice.
“I don’t think so!” Putrice took another deep breath. She would incinerate the grenade before it had the chance to hit her.
Then, at the last possible moment, Moonlight made her move. There was no room for error. If her timing wasn't perfect, she'd be toast, along with the critical hopes of Equestria's future reliant on the mission's success.
From her low-crouched position, she sprang up, catching the grenade between her hooves. Grunting with exertion, she furiously flapped her wings to push herself up, clearing the fiery belch of Putrice by the narrowest of margins.
Now came the hard part. Barely keeping herself aloft, Moonlight kicked out her legs, shifting the aerodynamic forces to tip her into a forward somersault. Then, with a twist of her body, she righted herself and pulled in her wings, dropping straight down onto the dragon's shoulders.
Suddenly burned by the bat pony, Putrice's eyes went wide. She'd been duped, and there was nothing she could do. No sooner did the last of her breath of fire fizzle out, Moonlight shoved the grenade down her throat. She snapped her jaws shut, intent on shearing off the pony's arm.
Her last mistake.
Moonlight's arm was already free, and as soon as she heard the reflexive gulp of swallowing, she jumped off. “Get down, now!”
“What did you—” A futile remark. Mixed with the noxious gases of her bloated, rotting body, the grenade went off with a deafening boom. In the blink of an eye, her insides exploded, rupturing out through her gut and blowing her brains out.
Once the gunpowder smoke cleared, little remained of the undead guard that was recognisable. Her head had been split in two, and leftover tissue of her gut sprawled open, red with the blood of her few remaining organs.
Confused and disorientated by the sudden, explosive demise of their superior, the footsoldiers reeled, dropping their weapons to haphazardly slash about in the vague direction of their enemies.
But the Lunar Guard were long gone. Celestia's Fury was a success, the only clue to their presence being the chorus of cheers from the emboldened pony slaves. Whatever the dragons did to them now, they knew the tide was beginning to turn. War was coming, and Equestria drew first blood.
Despite the slave's celebration, Moonlight knew this was no time to get cocky, for their escape was far from assured. Reaching their airship was the goal, and it wouldn’t wait forever. Time was of the essence, so they had to be prepared, ready to fight however many undead still stood in their way.
Yet their escape was unobstructed. As they raced around the corner of the final tunnel, not a single guard was to be seen anywhere. Bursting out into the open air, they would be forgiven for thinking they were finally home free.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
A deep chill ran down Moonlight’s spine. Their final challenge stood waiting for them. A truly humongous creature, its decrepit skin covered in a thin layer of obsidian scales, with claws big enough to crush a bloat dragon's head.
There could be no doubt. The beast they faced was none other than ex-Dragon Lord Torch himself.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” Torch said, his mocking grin flashing long rows of rotten, yet still razor-sharp teeth. “Dragons, helping ponies? This won’t do at all!”
In a flash of movement, Torch snapped his body around and swung his tail at the Lunar Guard.
“Scatter!” On Moonlight's command they scrambled to get airborne, narrowly dodging Torch's tail as it smashed into the volcano barracks behind them.
“Ponies are such troublesome creatures,” Torch sighed and leant on one arm, idly tapping his claw on the ground. “You buzz around like insects, always interfering where you don't belong. And no matter how many times I try and swat you, you just keep coming back for more.”
Then, Torch snapped upright, swiping at the bat ponies as they tried to climb away. Moonlight banked hard to the right and dropped, while Spectre went the opposite way, climbing steeply.
Despite the second near miss in a row, Moonlight refused to let herself panic. Though she knew it was meant as an insult, there was merit to Torch's insect comparison. No creature of Torch's size could hope to move with the grace of Luna’s chosen. But that didn’t mean she could relax, as in the same movement, Torch reversed his attack, singling out Moonlight from her squad.
Thinking fast, Moonlight leant further right to steepen her turn, diving into a corkscrew roll so tight her vision blurred. The attack missed, but Torch did not relent. He just flicked his claw around again, lazily swatting at her like a cat toying with a mouse.
Still, she pressed on. She knew she was staring death in the face. It was only a matter of time before Torch grew bored of this game. She hated to admit it, but this was one fight she didn’t know how to win.
That didn’t stop Sulphur and Smoky rushing to retaliate, spitting their fire at Torch to get his attention. “Over here, ya overgrown lizard!” Smoky jeered between puffs of flaming rings.
Torch looked up at the loyalist dragons with mild indifference. “Oh? The traitors want attention, do they?” he chuckled. “Let me show you how a true dragon spits his fire!”
Torch slowly opened his mouth, drawing I a deep breath of air.
“We break on three,” Sulphur whispered to Smoky. “One… two…”
Flames danced between Torch’s jaws, ready to be unleashed.
“Three!”
The loyalist dragons dived, parting ways just as an enormous plume of fire erupted from Torch’s mouth. In perfect synchronicity, they looped around and over, flying straight toward the Dragon Lord’s face. He tried to turn his attack and shoot down the loyalists, but he was too slow. Smoky and Sulphur flew around the edges of his vision, and the moment they were in range, spat bursts of fire into Torch’s eyes.
The Dragon Lord roared in pain, carving huge chunks of rock from the volcano as he blindly thrashed, shooting wild blasts of fire in every direction.
Weaving around the attacks, the Lunar Guard regrouped above. “Nice shooting, you two!” Spectre exclaimed. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
But Sulphur shook his head, giving the bat ponies a solemn look. “No,” he said, turning to Smoky. “We’re staying behind. Torch won't be blinded for long, and when that ends, some creature needs to distract him. It’s only fitting that those creatures be dragons.”
“Not a chance!” Moonlight snapped, half-tempted to punch Sulphur in the face. “As your commander, I refuse to leave any squad members behind; be they pony or dragon.”
“Moonlight, listen,” Smoky said, glaring back at Moonlight. “If you don’t go soon, we’ll all die. Torch was playing before, but now he’s serious. Unless we keep him here, you’ll be followed, and he’ll destroy the ship. You and I both know that can’t happen.”
Moonlight bit her lip, mulling the words over in her mind. There had to be another way. They’d already escaped one tight situation, who was to say they couldn’t escape another? All she needed was the right plan.
“Damn you, traitors! Damn you all!” The screams of Torch cut short Moonlight’s train of thought. She may not like it, but she knew what needed to be done. Smoky’s logic was undeniable.
Spectre placed a hoof on Moonlight’s shoulder. “We will remember them,” he said, smiling. He then turned back to his dragon comrades and saluted. “Thank you for your service. We will win this war, both for dragon- and ponykind, no matter what it takes.”
Smoky returned the salute, as did Sulphur with his good arm.
“Oh, and sorry about that injury,” Spectre added. “If things were different, we would’ve got you fixed up in no time.”
“Hey, it’s no problem,” Sulphur replied, forcing a weary smile. “Hazards of the job.”
Moonlight’s stomach squirmed. She was half tempted to stay and fight with them, and maybe she would find a way to save them. Alas, she knew in her heart of hearts that she could not. It was a sad fact of war she'd learnt over a decade and a half of service to the Lunar Guard.
So, with tears in her eyes, she gave Smoky and Sulphur one last salute. “I know Spectre already said it, but it bears repeating,” she sniffled. “You’ve been a great asset to the Lunar Guard. We will never forget this honour.”
“Don’t worry, we know,” said Smoky, just as Torch looked up at him. “Now, get going, before that abomination sees you!”
“I heard that!” Torch roared; his eyes red from the pain. He began to flap his wings, creating a powerful draught that threatened to blow the Lunar Guard away.
That was the bat pony's cue to leave. Taking one last look at her dragon partners, Moonlight flew off into the night with Spectre in tow.
Torch attempted to pursue, but the loyalist dragons blocked his path. Smoky raised his mace, and Sulphur raised his shield. “Ready, brother?” Smoky asked.
“Always, brother,” Sulphur replied.
Together, they pulled in their wings and dived toward Torch. “For Equestria!” Screaming their battle cry as one, blasted away at Torch with every last lick of fire they could muster. Together, they seared away at Torch’s facial scales, creating a smoke screen that covered Moonlight and Spectre’s escape.
Klugetown hasn’t changed much in the past ten years. It was just as Twilight had described: a ramshackle, dark city of narrow streets and high-rise buildings made from anything the residents could get their claws on. It was everything Canterlot was not: a disorganised hive of shady creatures scuttling about.
Stellar Shine had never seen anything like it, not least because this was the first time he’d been so far from home. The moment he and his Crystal Paladins arrived, he could tell all eyes were drawn to him. He had expected this. After all, he was a white-coated alicorn stallion clad in gold armour. He couldn’t stick out more if he tried!
Yet, somehow, this didn’t make him feel any less anxious. He wondered if this was how Twilight felt when she'd been crowned Princess. Despite the squirmy feeling in his gut, he didn’t let it show. Instead, he remained straight-faced and resolute, marching through the busy streets while his fellow Paladins put up ordinance posters on every other block.
Posters which were, almost immediately, ripped down by curious civilians and mischievous thieves, all eager to spread the news of their distinguished visitors. They earned a fair share of scornful remarks from Stellar's company, but he quickly silenced them. They had come to implement austerity measures, and the word would get out one way or another.
“Better to save your emotions for the war to come,” Stellar told them
Soon, they reached the city centre: an expansive square where hundreds of traders haphazardly set up their stalls in whatever space they could squeeze into. A large, wooden platform stood in the middle, where many publicly auctioned their finest wears – most of which, Stellar presumed, was stolen.
As he pushed his way through the crowd, a tall object in the platform’s heart caught his eye.
Wait, are they using...?
A closer look confirmed his suspicions. The twin beams of wood assembled at a right angle, plus the short noose made it unmistakable; these were the gallows. Such a device was ancient by Equestrian standards. Capital punishment had not been used since before the Battle of Nightfall, the fateful duel between Princess Celestia and Nightmare Moon. Just looking at the cruel, heartless device made Stellar's stomach churn. What possible crime would warrant such a crude murder, and not also condemn the killer for an equal atrocity?
To kill civilians, even as a last resort, went against everything he stood for. As much as he wanted to tear the device down there and then, he knew there were more pressing issues to shed light upon. He could only hope that, harmony willing, he could show how unnecessary such barbaric methods were.
Marching up the stairs together, Stellar and his paladins formed a ring around the traders. Now in full view of every creature, Vindicator Solar Flare blew into his battle horn. For the first time in Celestia knew how long, the square fell silent.
“Citizens of Klugestown,” he began. “War has come. In as little as four weeks’ time, an army of dragons is set to invade—”
“Bullshit!” a dragon trader interrupted, squaring up to Stellar. “Lord Ember would never allow that. How dare you spit on her name like that?!”
“It is not of Ember I speak about,” Stellar rebuffed the trader with a hard stare. “It is the ex-Dragon Lord Torch. He has been resurrected from the dead by a mysterious cult using forbidden magic. By decree of the Five Princesses and myself, Prince Stellar Shine, we hereby order the creation of a new army barracks, right here in Klugestown.”
“You have no authority here,” the dragon snapped back. “No creature does!”
“It is by necessity that we commandeer this city,” said Solar, stepping forward to voice his support for Stellar. “Like it or not, you will soon be besieged by the undead dragons. If you wish to survive with your sovereignty intact, you will comply.”
The word 'comply' did not go over well. The crowd erupted with cacophonous jeering, many throwing fruit among other miscellaneous objects at the Paladins.
“Liars!” cried a Pegasus pony. “Zombies don't exist, you can't scare us!”
“You just want this land for yourself!” cried another griffon.
“Get out of here!”
“You think you're so great!”
“We don't want your war!”
Stellar Shine could take no more. For the sake of establishing order, he had to use the royal Canterlot voice. “ENOUGH!” his booming voice echoed through the square, immediately quelling the mob's anger. “Ivy, Caramel, a portal, if you please,” he said, quieter this time.
“Yes sir,” the unicorn sisters saluted him and lit up their horns. It took a minute, but soon enough, a portal shimmered to life behind them, revealing the inner depths of the old Canterlot dungeon. Inside it lay a dragon, but not just any dragon. This was the undead monster the paladins and Twilight slew a fortnight before.
The crowd gasped, their collective mood switching from angered derision to fearful murmurs. The auctioneers who were closest to the portal shuffled awkwardly on the spot.
“This... this isn't real!” Despite the dragon trader's descent, Stellar easily picked up on the insecurity in his voice. “It's... an illusion. Yes, nothing more than an illusion; meant to scare us into submission!”
“Oh, I assure you, this is very real,” Stellar turned to the portal. “Please give a warm welcome to: Dragon Lord Ember!”
As if the announcement was part of some elaborate stage show, Ember stepped into view, wearing a replica of the golden armour she'd used during the Gauntlet of Fire. But this was not the full extent of her theatrics. Sliding down the dragon's neck, she grabbed onto its horns, swinging around and landing feet first on its right.
The crowd watched in stunned silence as Ember, still holding onto the undead's horns, wrenched herself back, ripping the undead dragon's head clean off its neck with a single twist. Then, heaving it up to chest height, she threw it through the portal, letting it roll across the deck and into the crowd.
A wave of panic washed over the crowd, with the nearest creatures screaming and shoving to get out of the way. When the severed head finally came to a stop, the crowd reformed into a wide semicircle around it, though none were brave enough to come closer.
“You see that?” Ember pointed to it, its blank eyes acting as an emotional ward to keep the crowd back. “That is a desecration on all dragon kind! A corrupted abomination, serving as a mindless freak of magic for whatever end the necromancer decides.”
The dragon trader, who had previously been so adamantly speaking out against the Paladin's intrusion, dropped to his knees, bowing profusely before Ember. “I am so sorry we doubted you, my Lord,” he grovelled. “I live to serve your every need.”
Ember folded her arms, ignoring this theatrics, and looked over the crowd. “I don't know any of you, or why you live here. Frankly, I don't care. What I do care about is stopping things like that,” she gestured once again to the dragon's head, “from conquering Equestria. They call themselves the Cult of the Dragonflame, and they are the ones who stole my kingdom. Yet even with the resurrected body of my father, I still got out alive. I won't give up until I'm restored to my rightful place as Dragon Lord, and if you need any more proof of that, just look at the severed head right in front of you. I killed that dragon, and I will stop at nothing to regain what I’ve lost!
“In the eyes of the cult, you are all nothing. You will be slaughtered without the slightest bit of remorse or pity. The only thing that stands between you and zombification is Stellar Shine and the armies of Equestria! Now, you've all got a choice to make; you will help us defend Equestria or you will die. What's it gonna be?”
For a few long moments, the crowd remained silent. Then, the grovelling trader stood up. Turning to face the crowd, he yelled, “Hail, Lord Ember!”
“Hail Lord Ember!” cried another dragon from the crowd.
Then came another cheer, and another, and another. From these dragons, the entire crowd followed, chanting Ember's name.
To the casual observer, it would have looked like Ember had the crowd in the palm of her claw. But Stellar knew better. He was no fool. From his vantage point, he could see several motionless bodies, lying face-down in the darkness of the dusty backstreets, while scavengers and thieves raced to grab whatever possessions the unfortunate victims had on them. It was a disgusting sight, enough to make the average pony gag.
Yet Stellar hardened his heart. If what he'd seen so far was any indication, no creature killed without reason; so, those who died to a knife in the back would likely have done the same to others, if it benefited them. If he were to mourn the death of every criminal who threw themselves into the grinding wheels of revenge, he would quickly lose sight of why he was here.
Klugestown, for all its evils, was the only infrastructure for kilometres around. He needed to establish a foothold here, so he could protect it—and by extension, Equestria—from the undead. So, if he was to protect his troops from being murdered and robbed, he would need to do much more than spin the truth about Ember's strength.
He spared a glance behind him, briefly taking in the imposing sight of the gallows. This, I think, will have to remain a while longer, he thought.
One month later, the centre of Klugestown was a very different place. Gone were the traders competing for attention, and in their stead, hundreds of makeshift workstations lined the streets, serving the needs of every soldier in Celestia's army. Most were dedicated to the repair and maintenance of black powder weapons, and with a full division's worth of flintlock rifles to keep in top working order, there was no rest for the wicked – quite literally, in fact.
As Stellar Shine started his inspection rounds for the rifle divisions, a familiar lunar Pegasus caught his attention with a salute. “Report from perimeters Alpha, Delta, and Echo, my lord,” announced Moonlight.
“Ah, yes, our new.... alliance,” Stellar grimaced. He tried to sound optimistic, despite feeling the familiar pang of guilt. “How is it working out? It's been a while since the last report.”
“Like clockwork,” Moonlight grinned. “In fact, that's the reason there's been fewer reports in the past couple of weeks. You should've seen the look on the mob boss' faces when they heard how much we'd pay them! Because of them, almost none of the regular Klugestown outlaws will go near the guarded areas.”
The word almost weighed heavily on Stellar's mind. Every written report he received went into excruciating detail on how brutal mob justice was, as per his request. Every morning, he'd re-read the reports, reminding himself of what kind of vile, twisted killers the official Equestria treasury now unofficially sponsored.
“Good,” Stellar said eventually, faking a smile. “Keep the reports coming, and be sure to inform me should we encounter any breakthroughs.”
“Aye, sir, but...” Moonlight's expression dropped, as did her voice volume down to a whisper. “Are you sure you're okay? I know we come from vastly different combat disciplines, but that doesn't make me blind to your discomfort.”
Stellar almost wanted to laugh. Discomfort did not even begin to cover it, though he couldn't fault Moonlight for trying to empathise. “Thank you, old friend,” his expression didn’t change despite speaking softer. “I can manage. My Paladins are doing all we can to aid citizens who feel the effects of our occupation most. My convictions remain unwavering, you have nothing to worry about.”
She studied his expression for a few moments longer. “It's not your convictions I worry about,” she said. “It's about you. Are you suffering as those who die to the mobsters have?”
Stellar shook his head. “No. They know the risks, as I do for the sake of war.”
Moonlight narrowed her eyes but chose not to pry further. If there was one thing they agreed on, it was to assess the needs of the many before the needs of the few – including one's own emotions.
“Alright, sir,” Moonlight conceded and saluted with her wing. “Light be with you.”
“Light be with you.” Stellar returned the salute, and they went their separate ways. To conclude his inspection, he decided to climb atop the former gallows’ platform, where the head of the undead dragon hung for all to see; its menacing gaze providing a constant reminder of why they were all here.
From here, he could see the ponies of the Sixteenth Canterlot Rifle Division practising their volley fire formations; the yak of the Tenth Yakyakistan Heavy Arms Batteries, butting heads and stomping around the cannons as part of their ritual warm-ups; as well as the elite troops of the Wonderbolts Archery Squadrons, peppering the straw targets with arrows shot from their recurve bows.
Stellar let out a long sigh. As proud as he was to be fronting such an army, he still couldn't break the endless tug of war in his mind between the ethics of his alliance and its justification. Before he could drift off entirely into his own thoughts, he spotted Ivy trotting up the stairs.
“Morning, Stellar,” she said. “Inspection looking good?”
“All's well so far,” Stellar replied, though he didn't greet her. He just continued to stare off absently.
“Looks like somepony's a grumpy griffon today,” Ivy remarked. “Something on your mind?”
“That's putting it mildly...” Stellar grumbled. “Wait, where's Caramel? Don't you two normally work together?”
“She's hosting a friendship sermon right now,” she raised an eyebrow. “What, did you think we'd be together all the time, just because we're sisters?”
“Nevermind,” Stellar said flatly, tensing his jaw. “Sorry, you're right. I have got a lot on my mind right now.”
“Let me guess; you're unhappy with the big gangs hired as security?”
“I don't think 'security' is the right word, in this case.” Stellar thought back to the report he'd read earlier that morning. He hadn't seen the event in question—at least, not directly—but his imagination was vivid enough to fill in the blanks. “Petty theft,” he said after a moment's pause. “Tried to steal a flintlock rifle and fly out of the city. Spat in our face, called us 'filthy warmongers'. For that, the mob beat him to a bloody pulp. I really shouldn't feel sorry for a creature like him.”
“And yet you do?” Ivy prompted.
Stellar nodded. “Yes. Silly, isn't it? He did this to himself. Yet, until recently, that was the norm for Griffons. How long has it been since he visited home, I wonder? Did he really know any better? That was his culture: to take whatever you saw fit and to horde it relentlessly, because the more wealth you had, the more you could haggle for basic resources. The irony of such a draconic society isn't lost on me.”
“I guess we're all creatures of habit,” Ivy placed a hoof on Stellar's shoulder. “You know, I may be stating the obvious here, but I think we agree that none of us wanted this war. Some may say it was inevitable, if not from the dragons, then maybe another Storm King, or Celestia knows what other world-threatening magical creature awakening from dormancy.
“But now that it's here, I know neither you nor I would let any creature sabotage the safety of Equestria. Times change, and so must we. If we are to remain the beacons of light in Equestria's darkest hour, as you always wanted us to be, those who refuse to make sacrifices are too much of a liability. That's what I learned from your scorched earth tactics during the Siege of the Crystal Empire.”
Stellar looked at Ivy and smiled. “I knew you'd make an excellent Paladin,” he said. “Even so, knowing what kind of horrific deaths await those who attract the mobster's ire? I wish we had the means to provide our own, more ethical form of justice. It's what Twilight Sparkle would have wanted.”
“You and I both know we don't have that luxury,” she gave him a stern, yet gentle look. “Listen, I am just as complicit in this as you. If it will ease your guilty conscience, then I will stand with you in taking penance for enacting martial law. I know every one of your Paladins will do the same, no questions asked. Whatever the outcome, we are together under Celestia's Light.”
Stellar turned his gaze upward. How easy it was to forget the heat of desert light and the striking blue sky amongst the confines of a city – especially one as architecturally random as Klugestown. “Allow me to amend what I said earlier,” Stellar said. “I'm not just glad you became a Paladin. But rather, I'm grateful to bless, and have been blessed, by the magic of Celestia's holy light. Without it, the Crystal Paladins would have nothing. For Celestia, for Twilight, and for Equestria, we will stop at nothing to restore Ember's rightful place as Dragon Lord.”
As if to punctuate the conversation, one of the Wonderbolt's charged his way past the practising archers. “Lord Stellar Shine!” he called. “Wing Commander Gale Force, reporting in.”
“What’s the issue, officer?” Stellar asked.
“Scouts say the enemy has been sighted, sir!”
“How far away are they?”
“Toward the eastern coast,” the Wonderbolt said. “Twenty kilometres from here, sir. Mostly smaller dragons, but by Celestia, there’s a lot of ‘em! Three bloats flying, too.”
“Alright. Sound the battle horns. I want every soldier outside the eastern gate, fully armed and ready to go in the next ten minutes.”
“Yes, sir!” The Wonderbolt saluted and pulled a battle horn from his belt, though the shrill whistle of the arriving train caught every creature's attention first.
That was when Caramel Charm teleported up next to Stellar. “Lord Stellar,” she said. “You have a V.I.P awaiting your presence at the station.”
“Can it wait?” Stellar asked. “We're just about to begin deployment.”
“Afraid not, my lord,” Caramel grinned. “He insists you not leave without him.”
It took a moment for Stellar to realize who Caramel was referring to, but when he did, he teleported all the way to the station in a flash. He arrived just in time to catch the guard unlocking the carriage doors, allowing the passengers inside to disembark; the last of whom Stellar was particularly happy to see.
“Far Seer!” Stellar charged head-first into his colt-friend’s waiting hooves, nearly knocking him over.
“Good to see you, too, Stellar,” Far Seer winced, partially winded from the tackle-hug.
“Oh, sorry,” Stellar took a step back, blushing. “Even after ten years, I still forget my alicorn strength sometimes.”
“Not to worry, sweetheart,” Far Seer kissed his hoof. “But let’s not waste any more time. When do we deploy?”
“As soon as the last train leaves. Are you happy to lead the rifle division? They could use your impeccable aim.”
“You know I am!” Far Seer flashed a confident grin. With the train filling up with evacuating civilians, the war of the Dragonflame could truly begin.
Onward through the desert sands, the army marched. The pegasi did what they could to provide shade, though the arid terrain provided little moisture for clouds. Despite temperatures rising further into double digits, the warriors of Equestria still maintained formation.
Stellar Shine kept an eye on the Cavaliers who marched at the army’s flanks. Though they showed little outward discomfort, Stellar knew how different this battlefield was to their tundra home. He could only hope their short weeks of training were enough to help them to adapt.
Closer to Stellar were the Yak Artillery batteries; eight field guns — four cannons toward the flanks, four mortars toward the centre—were dragged behind them, their wheels enlarged to prevent sinking into the sand. With their brute strength, this was unlikely to be an issue. What struck Stellar, however, was how much hair they’d shaved off to cope with the heat. Their famed fur still retained its fibrous appearance, though considerably thinner than before.
Stellar smiled. He'd seen how closely they guarded their shaven locks. Not a single hoof was to touch what was shed; that was their only demand. To make such a sacrifice for the sake of Equestria was a testament to their loyalty. The pony troops were trained well enough to avoid staring, though they couldn’t help but spare an occasional glance at the novel sight. The yak were, likewise, quick to respond, rebuking any curious looks with a heavy stink eye.
So long as they didn’t devolve into verbal bickering, Stellar could permit small defences of cultural pride. He had bigger things to worry about, such as if they wore their armour correctly. The yak battle wear was closer to the pony rifle brigades than his own, consisting of leather vests and light-weight helmets, though it was a squeeze to get them between the horns. The kit was basic, but it would protect them in the event of hoof-to-hoof combat, if only for a short time.
“Lord Stellar!” Gale Force hovered overhead. “Enemy sighted! Six-hundred meters away, approximately.”
“Halt!” Stellar called, bringing his army to a stop at the top of a sand dune. “My friends, comrades, creatures-in-arms, the enemy is upon us. They desecrate one of Equestria’s most powerful allies with their foul magic. Make no mistake, they will not go down easy. But it is our duty as followers of Celestia to exterminate them, and to liberate the lands of the one true Dragon Lord, Ember. All of those ready to defend Equestria, say aye!”
“Aye!” the army bellowed in a unified call.
“Now, listen carefully, as this will be your final briefing. Far Seer, spread your gunners down the slope of this dune; rows of ten, standard volley formation.”
“Aye, Commander!” Far Seer Saluted. He remained at its top as his troops took their place.
“Archmage Star Dancer. You will hold your mages back behind the gunners. The bloat dragons will be after our artillery, so your magic shields will be crucial.”
The Archmage saluted also, his dark-purple mane fluttering as magic crackled around his horn.
“Artillery Master Yoko. I want all yak eyes above, ready to blast any bloat dragons back to Tartarus!”
The Yoko stomped her hooves, her yellow-braided mane jostling as she did so. “You can count on Yoko! No bigger boom than that of Yak guns!”
“Glad to hear it,” Stellar turned his attention to the squad of pegasi hovering above. “Wing Commander Gale Force: The Wonderbolts’ job is, first and foremost, to take out the necromancers. I suspect they’ll be well hidden, but their magic is a tell-tale giveaway. Aim for the purple aura amongst the horde.”
“You can count on us, sir!” Gale loaded an arrow.
“Just keep an eye on those bloat dragons,” Stellar added. “Once they enter the battle, they become the top priority for destruction. Don’t forget, the Yak will supply you with their bombs, but they’re extremely volatile, so be careful.”
“We’ll be in and out before you know it,” Gale grinned, repeatedly drawing back the string of his recurved short bow. Were his hooves not full, Stellar knew he’d be clapping them together in anticipation. “Those monsters won’t know what hit ‘em!”
“Last but by no means least, we come to the Cavaliers. Amber Opal, take your company one hundred meters west, and Sapphire Starfall, the same but to the east. We Paladins will act as the bait, luring the dragons into the killing zone, right between these two dunes. The second you hear gunfire, charge the enemy flanks, and box them in. Understood?”
“Aye, aye, sir!” the two crystal ponies said together. Stellar recognized these two. They were veterans of the siege, both of whom Stellar had personally congratulated after his ascension. If any ponies could be trusted to hold their formation, it was them.
“Every creature, assume formations!” Stellar’s horn burst to life with magic, its golden radiance visible to all. “Crystal Paladins of Equestria, charge!”
In a flash of light, the Paladins teleported across the dunes and came face to face with the enemy for the first time. Stellar Shine knew what to expect. He’d faced down the undead dragon in the streets of Canterlot. And yet, the revelation of the enemy’s true scope was still a horrific sight. Hundreds of thousands of dragons, the size of Lord Ember, shambled forward. Some were covered in a wide assortment of light armour, but most wore none, exposing their half-rotten bodies to the elements.
Stellar didn’t know how far they’d come, or for how long they’d travelled, but whatever the case, they showed little discipline among their ranks. They pushed and shoved against each other like a bunch of rowdy school foals, swinging their weapons around in search of a target. It only took one dragon to spot the Paladins to trigger their savage instincts, and once they did, the effect was instantaneous. Screaming with a cacophonous, animalistic roar, the dragons charged.
As before, they showed little care or attention for their fellow undead. They were so focused on their prey, many tripped over themselves, falling face first into the sand to be crushed beneath the frenzied stampede. Others swung their weapons faster, cutting and smashing into anything that came too close. More importantly, however, they left the bloat dragons behind. With such tiny wings, they hadn’t a hope of propelling their massive girth with any resemblance of speed.
Stellar looked over his shoulder and announced, “They’ve taken the bait! Now, charge!”
The first strike went to the Paladins. With Stellar at the head, the unicorns unleashed their magic, firing bolt after bolt of white-hot light. Few beams hit the mark, but it didn’t matter. Any undead they slew just added to their raging bloodlust. For every fallen dragon, three more were waiting to fight for the slain soldier’s weapon.
With the enemy suitably riled up, Caramel threw her chakrams into the mix. Empowered by her magic, the razor-sharp discs sliced away limbs with a butcher’s precision. They were close now. Only one-hundred meters between both forces. Many dragons were slain already, and Stellar knew he could kill many more. The prospect of annihilating the undead on his own was a tantalising prospect. Yet, he remained resolute, instead leading his Paladins into sharp U-turn, back toward the dunes. Such temptations were for the mindless undead, not for a Prince of Equestria. All they needed were a few token slashes from Caramel’s chakrams, and the dragons would follow, just as planned.
Leaping over the first dune, the Paladins skidded to a halt just as the first wave of dragons crested over. If any dragon noticed the bulk of the pony army, it was far too late. Their momentum carried them forward, straight into the heart of the killing zone.
“Ready your weapons, everypony!” Far Seer boomed. “Fire!”
The first gunner line unleashed their wrath with a chorus of bangs. From just a single volley, hundreds of dragons fell, bodies shredded by high-calibre ammo. One after another, each rank sounded off, firing off with clockwork precision to create a continuous hail of bullets.
The cavaliers seized their moment, bursting from cover to charge the enemy flanks. Galloping almost knee-to-knee in alternating ranks, they lowered their newest weapons, straight from the war-smiths of the Crystal Empire.
Thick, sturdy, and enchanted to be fire-proof, the pikes were the perfect weapons for them, slamming into the enemy lines with stone-shattering force. Undulating their weapons back and forth, they shredded through dragons like the jaws of a giant shark, advancing slowly to squeeze them between paladins and themselves.
The former fought in a loose formation, keeping their enemies at bay with superior martial prowess. Whereas the dragons flung their weapons with wild abandon, they struck with control and precision. Rearing up, Stellar held his enchanted hammer with both hooves, blocking the downward chop of a dragon’s sword.
“My turn!” he shoved the dragon back, leant on his right knee and smashed his hammer into the dragon’s ribcage with a loud, satisfying crunch. Then, catching the hammer in his magic, he flipped it around and slammed it down on the dragon’s skull, splattering bits of bone and brain matter in every direction.
Close by, Solar Flare fought on, dancing between the frenzied onslaught. With his staff gripped between his teeth, he rolled beneath the slash of rusty scimitar. Grunting, he spun around and delivered a powerful buck to the dragon’s face, snapping its jaw clean off. From the corner of his eye, his next opponent charged – shoving its half-broken spear toward his wing.
“You want a piece of me?!” Solar snapped, spitting out his staff and somersaulted over the attack. “Well, how about you take the whole hog instead?”
Sliding his hooves to the bottom of his staff, he swung the weapon around in a tight arc, sweeping the dragon off its feet with force enough to snap its ankles.
“Heads up!” Caramel’s call left little time, but it was enough for Solar to slide under her chakrams, the weapons bisecting several dragons in one spin. No sooner did her weapons return, a dragon pounced from behind, roaring with a mad glee as it abandoned its weapon to swipe at Caramel’s face.
Ivy’s sword put a stop to that. With a sharp thrust of her magic, she skewered the undead on the end of her claymore, creating a one-dragon shish kebab. “And that makes sixty kills,” Ivy said as she flung the dragon off her sword. “What about you?”
In response, Caramel threw her chakrams in a circular ark, a ring of bodies falling dead a moment later. “Sixty-eight,” she grinned. “Now watch your back. We’re not done yet!”
The gunners’ front rank fired off their second volley. Despite heavy casualties, the undead refused to relent. For every single dragon slain, five more were scrapping to take their place. Any living creature would have been suffocated between the mass of frenzied bodies, but this was of no consequence for a foe like this.
With wave after wave hurled at the Paladins, there was nowhere left to go but up. From the top of the dune, the undead took flight, baring their teeth as they lunged for the gunners.
“Mages!” Cried Far Seer. “Shield up, now!”
They were too slow. Far Seer’s voice wasn’t as loud as Stellar’s. Between the ill-timed gun volley and the savage roar of the undead, the order wasn’t clearly heard. He tried to cast his own spell, but it wasn’t enough. His magic was too weak, barely slowing the rain of dragon fire as it set his gunners alight.
“Down, sir!” A pony to his right tackled him, hitting the ground just as a fireball struck a mortar mid-loading. With a bright flash, the gunpowder exploded, blasting the crew apart in a shower of twisted metal and gore. Their death was swift, but others were not so lucky. Countless soldiers were engulfed by a firestorm, screaming in agony as the flesh burned from their bones.
When the barrier finally went up, Far Seer raced to his soldiers’ aid. Casting a spell of clear sight, he climbed to his hooves and galloped into the thick smoke, searching for survivors. Only then did he grasp the full extent of the damage. Hundreds of ponies and nearly two dozen yak were dead, many scorched beyond recognition.
The sight shook him to his core. He had never seen such carnage, not even during the Empire’s siege. He felt his stomach heave, but he resisted throwing up. He had to keep his cool, for the sake of his underlings.
“Every creature, regroup!” He called. The gunners scrambled to reform ranks, though there was little order amongst the sea of dragon fire. From trembling hooves to thousand-yard stares, he knew the attack had shaken them. The dragons’ relentless assault didn’t help. Without a way to restore morale, Far Seer knew they were all as good as dead.
His epiphany arrived in style; a streak of blue feathers zipping overhead. Wing Commander Gale Force had returned, firing shot after shot into the airborne undead.
With a spark of his horn, Far Seer brought a surge of magic flowing into the atmosphere. It took most of his remaining magic, but he managed to transform a light breeze into a raging gale. With the force of the wind, he blew the smoke back over the dragons, burying the dead under a fresh blanket of sand.
“The Wonderbolts are back!” He announced. “Against the odds, they have survived, just like us. Follow the lead of Celestia’s chosen and show those undead mongrels what real firepower looks like!”
“Sir, yes, sir!” the gunners replied with a resounding cheer. Once the smoke had cleared, they regained formation, guns ready to blast the fliers back to Tartarus.
But this time, the horde was not alone: the bloat dragons had finally caught up. Four humongous beasts lurched toward them, floating to a slow stop directly over the shielded gunners. Then, one by one, they unleashed blasts of fire so powerful, they shook the ground upon impact.
Yet the barrier held strong.
Safe behind the magic shield, it was Artillery Master Yoko’s time to shine. “Big gun batteries listen up!” she bellowed. “Dragons think Pony guns hurt? We show dragons real Yak firepower!” Like a well-oiled machine, the Yak teams sprang into action, the artillery barrels all swabbed, loaded, and ready to fire in quick succession.
“Bombardier Yaxoff,” Yoko asked. “How high should Yak aim?”
Bombardier Yaxoff peered through her telescope, adjusting its focus with her free hoof. “Two o’clock up, Master Yoko.”
“Alright every Yak, you hear?” Unlike Far Seer, Yoko’s voice was louder than the pony’s gunfire. “Cannons and mortars, two o’clock up!”
As her cannon’s barrel was raised into position, Yoko took it upon herself to light the torch that would unleash her weapon’s explosive wrath upon the dragons. Such a simple device: little more than a rag on a stick, doused in alcohol and lit with a spark from Yoko’s hooves. But every time she saw it burst into flames, her heart started thumping twice as hard. It was a delightful irony, the herald of the undead’s end being the very fire they used against her.
“Cannon positioned and ready, Master Yoko,” Yaxoff said, rubbing her hooves together in anticipation.
A bloat dragon floated into position, and Yoko looked it dead in the eye. Then, she took a deep breath, and yelled, “All guns, open fire!” Grinning from ear to ear, she lit the fuse and took a step back.
The cannon unleashed its fury, snapping back as the heavy iron ball tore through the undead’s belly, shattering its ribs on impact. The monster’s roar of pain was music to Yoko’s ears, the grand crescendo to the symphony of war. But there was no time to celebrate. The dragon didn’t fall, and instead, turned its attention to the artillery.
“Heads up, every Yak!” Yoko exclaimed. “Big dragon wants round two with Yak guns.”
Of course, her crew were already preparing the next shot. By the time the bloat dragon swung itself to face Yoko's crew, the gunpowder was packed and ready to receive its ammunition. The dragon tried to attack first, breathing a long jet of fire toward the artillery. But the barrier refused to give, and what's more, it was now in the perfect position for a kill.
Grabbing her torch again, Yoko waited for the breath attack to sputter out. Just as the last flames died against the barrier, Yoko lit the fuse, locking eyes with the monster above. For the second time that day, the cannon roared to life, shooting its ten-kilogram ball straight into the dragon's face. Upon impact, the dragon's head exploded like a gore-filled balloon, showering both ponies and dragons alike in its remains.
Yoko didn’t care. She wiped the guts from her top knot with the back of her hoof, allowing the texture to become just another part of the battle’s grand experience. From the ringing in her ears, the acidic smell of burning gunpowder, it gave her a rush like no other.
Leaking gas in its death throes, the bloat dragon drifted downward. Gale Force led the Wonderbolts around it, giving it one good shove to redirect its trajectory away from the Equestrian army. This was the turning point of the battle, though it took a lot more blasting to down the other bloat dragons. Once they were dealt with, however, the foot troops met a swift end from the full force of allied guns. From the moment Stellar drew first blood, to when the final undead dragon was beheaded, the battle took just over ninety minutes.
Though the Equestrian army was overwhelmingly the victor, Stellar Shine didn’t join in with the celebrations. Throughout the long march back to Klugestown, he couldn't help but think there was something off about this battle. Commander Gale's report reinforced this idea, as the Wonderbolts only discovered three necromancers among the dragon horde – all of which were killed with little resistance.
That night, he wrote a letter to Twilight Sparkle, expressing his concerns. He would commune with his Paladins in the morning, with intent to review the battle and the surveillance reports from the Lunar Guard spies around Klugestown. As he sat at his desk, he thought back to the siege of his homeland. He’d learnt the hard way how easy it was to get complacent.
This battle had been far too easy. The enemy was testing him, measuring the strength of Equestrian forces. What they planned to do with this information, he didn’t know. But suffice to say, the war of the dragon flame had only just begun.
Under starlight, Night Twister ventured out onto the battlefield. The broken bodies of dragons littered the dunes, with the vibrant robes of dead necromancers sticking out like a sore hoof.
He smiled. He knew these troops were doomed from the start. The only surprise was how many necromancers agreed to orchestrate the token offensive in the first place. He hadn’t told them that it was a feint, of course. Nopony was that desperate. He supposed he was lucky; the neophytes were too stupid to question their victory chances. Not against a foe with such heavy firepower, at least.
“Quite the mess you've made,” Crystal Rose trotted up to Night Twister.
“Why, whatever do you mean?” Twister smirked, waving a hoof in dismissal. “This was always going to be the outcome. Don't you remember the plan we discussed so thoroughly?”
“Don't play coy with me, Twister,” Crystal sneered, weaving her magic around the dragon corpses like a thread. “You know as well as I do what kind of victory Lord Torch desires. Swift, decisive, and efficient. Why do you bother wasting necromancy like this?”
“Because, my darling,” Night Twister levitated a dragon’s corpse in his magic, manipulating it like some macabre puppet. “You can't rush in blindly into battle and expect to win!” He spoke with a mocking tone, using the dragon to throw a limp slap across Rose's cheek. “It's the application of force that matters.”
“Oh, come off it,” Rose snapped back, shoving the dragon away. “Unlike you, I haven't forgotten our purpose here. I require no childish lectures.”
Night Twister rolled his eyes. “Then you should know the Equestrian armies aren't stupid. They won't go down without a fight, so we might as well test their strength and judge our troop's effectiveness. It means we waste less in future.”
“And what do you have to show for it?” Crystal snarled, her eyes glowing as purple static crackled across her horn. “You throw an entire company's worth of dragons to certain destruction, without so much as denting the pony army? You're being more than cautious, darling. You are being cowardly!”
Night Twister snorted and let out a harsh chuckle. “You speak of control while losing your temper?” Stomping his hoof, magic shot through the remains of his army, resurrecting every fallen dragon in less than ten seconds. “How hypocritical. I knew this attack would fail, and lo and behold, it did. Not only are these foolish necromancers replaceable, through their deaths, we've gained a tactical advantage. You know why?” Twister looked Crystal dead in the eye, not bothering to wait for a response. “Because now we know what it takes to stall them. If this token resistance can keep their best troops occupied? Griffonstone will be ours in no time. Which, in case you have forgotten, is our greatest potential asset.”
Crystal held Twister's gaze for a moment, then turned away in a huff, shooting her residual magic through a dead necromancer. “Fine. What's done is done. But now, it's my turn to take control. With this next attack, I'll grind those ponies to dust beneath the might of Lord Torch's army – just like you should have done from the start.”
“Be my guest,” Night Twister replied, gesturing back to his shambling horde. “They're all yours.”
