Supernatural powers, dragon birthmarks, and a strong title are this young man’s intergenerational destiny. Villains beware, the Equestrian Dragon is here!
Applejack, Sunset Shimmer, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, and Rarity’s lives take a turn when they discover that their friend Spike is the protector of all magical creatures secretly living in the human world.
August 17, the Business District of Canterlot City, a conurbation of tall buildings and large skyscrapers, asphalt streets and electric lampposts. Its police cars were black and white with bars, lights and antennas. Each hemmed in with radio consoles and a laptop terminal on a bracket, and the laptop screens showed GPS maps of the city. In one such car, a male cop was at the wheel. He drove slow; barely 20 miles an hour. His partner was sitting next to him, reporting in on the radio. They were fit, lean, tanned, athletic, neat and tidy.
“This is car 409-er with our second sweep of Sector 12,” the officer began.
He spoke clearly, calmly.
“Go ahead, 409,” the dispatcher replied. “What’s your status?”
“All clear here, dispatch. Re-engaging for another pass,”
“Roger that 409. Hey, you see him tonight?” she asked hopefully.
“Sorry, not tonight. We’ve got no sign of the Equestrian Dragon,”
“All right. You let me know if you see him, will you?”
The officers didn’t reply and continued with their patrol.
Ever since the dawn of Time, dragons were rarely seen—sometimes whole centuries went by without even a single sighting—but when they did appear, they made their presence known immediately. They would lay waste to entire civilizations, and then take up residence in a highly visible location, as if provoking humanity to retaliate. And this new “Equestrian Dragon” was an infuriating enigma to say the least, having been spotted in every major city from Fillydelphia to Applewood in southern Califoalnia.
At that same moment, in a colossal mansion in the heartland of Equestria, one of the most spectacular estates anywhere in the world, a male trillionaire awoke. He was tall, six-foot-two, strong, maybe two-forty, with broad shoulders, chiseled features, and short green hair with black roots.
Rising from his huge four-poster bed with blue draperies, as not to disturb her, Spike Drake reached in the dark for a black T-shirt and blue jeans. He pulled them on, thankful that his dark-colored clothes blended in with the shadows, and quietly made his way to the balcony doors. Easing them open carefully, Spike grimaced a bit at the squeaking noise they made and glanced back towards his bed. One of his two lovers, Celestia, was sleeping not even two feet away, and he didn’t want to wake her up. Her steady breathing told him that she was in deep slumber. She murmured something in her sleep, like she was having a conversation with herself. It wasn’t the first time Spike had seen her (or his other lover) do that, so it didn’t take him by surprise. She turned over on her side away from him. A sigh of relief escaped from between Spike’s lips and he headed out onto the balcony.
“I’ll be back before she gets up in the morning,” he thought.
Celestia and her sister, Luna, were nice and all, but Spike was not sure he had much in common with them. Their world seemed perfect. When he first met them many years ago, they had friends, fans, admirers and from what Spike had seen the ideal life. But they’d gone out of their way to be nice to him. Could be because of his money, but Spike didn’t think so. He really thought they were just genuinely good women. Spike didn’t have time for friends, but if he did, they would be a good place to start.
Spike’s bedroom was on the top floor of his estate, so the drop to the driveway below wasn’t really an option. He had thought about exiting through one of the many skylights in the roof and giving himself a moment to look at the city in the distance—Canterlot City. Long ago, it had been a small town by a small river and a small lake in a small part of a big Midwestern state. There wasn’t so much wilderness around that one could not see the town. On the other hand, there wasn’t so much town around that one could not see (and touch) the wilderness. Now, it was full of sidewalks and highrises, quiet and secure. Unfortunately, the city streets were too well lit for Spike’s purpose that night. He looked over the fields to the forest beyond. Then he looked across to the fire escape at the far end of the manor. Spike half-crouched, lowered his fist toward the ground.
Suddenly, a series of purple and green reptilian scales began to take form and creep up and down his arms and legs, covering his body in a sleek and smooth coat. The scales coated Spike’s shoulders then moved up his neck. They covered Spike’s chin and crept to his mouth and nose, which contorted and extended into a sharp snout. The fingers on his hands and the toes on his feet shot out and transformed into long, talon-like claws with very sharp points while a long, lizard-like tail protruded from where his lower back and his glutes met. As his body was changing, his clothes disappeared, and Spike said a silent thank you for Elven magic, knowing that they would return when he would transform back. He was every bit the dragon he had been born, including the bold confidence that came from a dragon’s strength.
Finally, a pair of huge, leathery, bat-like wings shot out from his upper back. They started flapping and he took off from the balcony and flew over the pastures, through the night sky. The clouds curled away from his speeding form as he skimmed above them. He twisted upward and hovered with the full moon’s clear light shining on him. His wings fanned out from his back like a frozen cape. Then he rocketed down, pulling a huge funnel of clouds down behind him.
Four minutes later and he was in the woods—five miles into Unicorn territory. He knew it was their domain because of the glyphs that had been scratched into the bark of the trees, signifying that the area was under their protection as well as Spike’s. His plan was to start off with an hour of running. After that, he would work on his Karate and try a bit of meditation and observation. The full moon shined through the trees, so the forest was a bit brighter than Spike had hoped it would be, but the light was not an issue for him. It was still very warm for the middle of August, and it reminded him of the day he was born.
It was a hot and dry July morning – 4:20 A.M., to be exact – when Spike Drake came into this world. He was the long-awaited child of a male sea serpent and a female flying dragon, and at 10 stones (14 pounds per stone) exactly, was immediately proclaimed the handsomest baby dragon in the world.
Truly, Spike was born into a life of great wealth, power and privilege. And yet he was assuredly his parents’ most valuable treasure. Unlike human babies, dragons could walk as soon as they were born, and Spike had learned to climb when he was only a week old. From the day he left their nest, his mother and father undertook to show him all that was good in life. And they were delighted that never was there a baby dragon with a sweeter disposition... or a more spirited sense of honor and fair play. Although Spike’s father, brother to the infamous Loch Ness Monster, “Nessie” they called her—who bore a great physical resemblance to the now extinct Plesiosaur—spent countless hours overseeing his vast and ever-growing empire, still found time to share simple pleasures with his son. As he grew, Spike developed a keen interest in the creation of several athletic events. He had everything a male dragon could want. Although at the age of three years, his flying skills left something to be desired. With combat training, and various forms of martial arts, however, Spike displayed a quite precocious talent... which as the years progressed, became more than just a favorite pastime.
The Equestrian Dragon was broken from his thoughts by a ringing that came from the military-grade hands-free device that hung on his right ear. He was getting a phone call from his other lover. A mere thought allowed him to answer the device and the holographic image of a woman’s face appeared before his eyes.
“Yes, Luna?” he said.
Luna was a beautiful woman, but she was nothing next to her sister. Celestia had a light in her eyes so warm that it made Luna just about invisible sometimes.
“I have a question that simply will not wait, sir,” she began.
“Which is?” the Equestrian Dragon asked.
“I was inquiring as to what suit Spike Drake might need pressed for his meetings tomorrow,”
“And that couldn’t wait?”
“These are the things that keep me up at night, Spike,”
“Was there anything else, Luna?”
“I was wondering how long you planned to be out tonight,” she said. “I’ve made Coq au vin.”
The Equestrian Dragon made a slight gagging sound after sniffing the air.
“Looks like I’ll be late,” he growled softly. “I’ve got work to do.” The Equestrian Dragon growled again after he hung up. “Tirek!”
He recognized that demonic centaur’s foul stench anywhere.
“What’s he doing out here?” he asked himself in thought.
Looking at the ground, the Equestrian Dragon slowly began to put the pieces of a puzzle together: the centaur’s hoof prints headed north-south on the night of a full moon. And they were in a forest that was home to a herd of unicorns.
The Equestrian Dragon gasped. “He’s hunting them!”
He knew unicorns were majestic beasts; their horns gave them their powers. And because unicorn horns were the equivalent of ivory in the magical world, they were an extremely valuable commodity on the Magical Black Market.
Suddenly, the Equestrian Dragon heard a twig snap on the ground behind him. He ducked behind a tree as quickly as he could. Then he heard a voice about four yards away. He took a chance and peaked low, above the grass line. He recognized the demonic centaur, with his human head and torso, dark red skin, bull-like horns, and horse’s body, he was an intimidating sight.
He was treading to a clearing up ahead; a pair of white unicorns with pale manes and tails were drinking from a pond at its center. Tirek cautiously moved from tree to tree until he was a few short yards from the unicorns. The Equestrian Dragon had seen a lone unicorn hold its own against a pack of six Timberwolves, but Tirek was a force to be reckoned with. He had to help them.
“Now, you shall add to my power,” Tirek said.
“Taste my Dragon Breath, dirtbag!” the Equestrian Dragon growled.
He exhaled a stream of emerald green fire, which startled Tirek and distracted him just long enough for the unicorns to gallop away to safety.
Perturbed at his prey escaping, Tirek turned his anger on his attacker.
“Dragon magic...” he thought. “Even better!”
“You’re not going anywhere, Tirek!” the Equestrian Dragon stated.
“It’s Lord Tirek!” he bellowed. “And who’s going to stop me, you?”
The Equestrian Dragon padded forward, glaring, as Tirek glowered back at him, his fangs jutting from his upper jaw. The Equestrian Dragon breathed fire at Tirek again, knocking the demonic centaur back. The villain ducked and dodged more of the Equestrian Dragon’s fireballs; he even deflected some of them with the silver gauntlets on his arms, before conjuring an orange energy orb from between his horns. The orb grew to the size of a boulder and Tirek took aim. The Equestrian Dragon ducked under the blast, which burned a line through the trees behind him, and Lord Tirek charged.
“What?” Spike thought. “You’re not tired? You just burned own a mile and a half of forest!”
He evaded Tirek’s fists and flew into the trees before bursting back out again and spitting a fireball that hit Tirek square in the chest. Tirek stumbled back and shot more fiery beams from between his horns, and two of them struck the Equestrian Dragon to the ground. With a smirk, Tirek conjured another flaming orb, which hovered above his right hand, as the Equestrian Dragon got back up and dodged the attack.
“You’re gonna have to be a little quicker than that--!” he began.
The Equestrian Dragon didn’t get to finish his sentence because a pink Pegasus with blue curls for a mane and tail came at him from behind and struck him in the back, knocking him to the ground again.
“What the-?! What’s a Pegasus doing helping Tirek?” he thought.
The pink Pegasus positioned herself between Lord Tirek and the Equestrian Dragon, and she gave the latter a hateful glare as he slowly got up.
“You wanna go?” the Equestrian Dragon shouted at her. “Is that what you want?! Well, let’s go then!!”
Suddenly, the Equestrian Dragon flew at the pink Pegasus and kicked her across her muzzle, stunning her, before ricocheting off a tree, back towards Tirek. He grabbed the centaur by his horns and slammed him forward into a cluster of hanging vines, which tangled around his horns like a Cat’s cradle. One of the vines also wrapped around Tirek’s left wrist, and the Equestrian Dragon (standing on the evil centaur’s head) pulled on the vine like a puppet string, and repeatedly struck Tirek in the face with it.
“Why are you hitting yourself?” he asked. “Why? Why? Why?! Why!”
After eight solid punches, Tirek was in a daze, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, which gave the Equestrian Dragon the perfect opportunity to push the villain forward once more, ride him down a cliff like a surfboard, and impale Tirek’s horns through two separate trees.
“Had enough, Rhino Rump?!” the Equestrian Dragon shouted.
Instead of simply pulling his horns free from the trees, Tirek tore the trees completely from the ground (right down to their roots) and tossed them away.
Tirek was about to charge up another energy attack when something small and sharp flew right past him—just an inch away from his face—and sank into the trunk of a tree that was right beside him, and the demonic centaur turned to see what it was.
It was a kunai knife.
Then Tirek, the pink Pegasus and the Equestrian Dragon all looked up, into the trees, where the knife had been thrown from, and they saw a human figure with gleaming golden eyes clad in black garb from his mask to his feet. Smoke bombs, shuriken and more knives were tucked into his robes and he carried a sheathed katana across his back.
“Aww, you started without me,” he mock pouted through his mask.
He somersaulted off the branch that he had been perched on, and stuck the landing on the ground, next to the Equestrian Dragon, who the ninja stood with.
“This is not over, Dragon!” Tirek swore as he and his Pegasus sidekick disappeared in a blazing inferno.
“Yeah, you better run!” the newcomer shouted as the blaze went out. “If we catch either of you in this forest again, you’re gonna be wearing his size thirteens as a hat!” he added, pointing to the Equestrian Dragon’s feet.
Once he was certain that their enemies were gone, the ninja removed his mask, revealing a dark face and a mess of jet-black hair. He turned back just in time to see the Equestrian Dragon transform back into his human form.
His wings retracted back into his shoulder blades, and his purple and green scales started to fade to a human tan. Then the Equestrian Dragon’s snout, claws and tail shrank and curtailed until they were a human nose, mouth and chin, fingers and hands, and toes and feet once more. His clothes also reappeared, and Spike Drake shot a brief glance at the man he knew as Midnight Radiance.
Spike first met Midnight the way he had met most people: not in a board room, or in the back of a limousine somewhere, it was at a bar. Both men were hunting for female companionship, and when Midnight first saw Spike he wanted to be friends with him.
Midnight Radiance was a pretty chill dude. A bit of a pervert, with a thing for women with big breasts and big butts, but he was very respectful towards them. He was the kind of guy that would get caught sneaking a peek, but he had enough respect and restraint to not give into his urges. He would do anything in his power to help his friends and he valued each and every one of them, even if he didn’t always show it.
“That was a weird team-up, wasn’t it?” he asked.
“Them, or us?” Spike replied as he turned his back on the ninja.
“Touché,” Midnight Radiance smirked.
“I’m getting a call,” Spike said curtly.
He answered another Face Time from one of his many lady friends. But instead of seeing just her, he was met with an eyeful of naked babes. Five of them, to be exact: they were Minuette (the one who had called him), and her gal pals Twinkleshine, Lemon Hearts, Lyra Heartstrings and Sweetie Drops.
“Hello, ladies,” he said.
“Hey, Spike,” Minuette replied. “So, are you really going to Moon Dancer’s party tomorrow night?”
“Uh, yeah!” he retorted. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know, maybe because sometimes you say you’re going to go to stuff and then you turn into Captain No-Show,” Lemon Hearts answered.
It was true. Ever since Spike fully embraced his responsibilities as the Equestrian Dragon, he flaked out on his friends on a regular basis and (in the process) had acquired a reputation for being just plain weird.
“I told her I would be there, and I’ll be there. In fact, I just bought her gift,”
That wasn’t entirely untrue: with all the latest advances in technology—namely the creation of online shopping—Spike pulled up the mobile app for the Amarezon store website and clicked on the tab for his cart. With the mere push of a button, he selected his method of payment as well as same-day delivery and made his purchase before talking to the girls again.
“We’re just saying, you know how sensitive she is,” Twinkleshine reminded him. “You missed her last little get-together and she got all upset. So, did you get her that thing you were going to get her?”
“None of you got her another book that she already owns, did you?” he quickly countered.
“NO!” Lyra protested. “I made her a mix CD to listen to after she studies. We’ll see you there.”
Spike ended the call and the holographic picture of the girls disappeared as Midnight Radiance asked, “Spike, when are you going to learn you don’t have to go it alone? You know I’m always here to help--”
“I didn’t need your help,” Spike grunted. “I was doing just fine.”
“Is that why you were playing dodgefireball with Tirek?” Midnight replied. “I thought that’s why you asked me to join you on these little outings.”
“Tomorrow, I’m stepping up my training!” Spike said to himself.
A ball of emerald fire enveloped Spike as he transformed back into his dragon form and he flew away.
Spike Drake’s days always started fairly early, anywhere between four and five o’clock in the morning, when he would be awakened by a gentle nuzzle from a gray wolf named Sandra, who rested at the foot of his bed.
As he slept, Spike was overcome by a feeling that there was something outside of his window... just standing there on the balcony, watching, and waiting for him. Of course, he knew that wasn’t possible. He knew there was nothing there. Still, he couldn’t help but look... and chase after them. And when he woke up, he regretted it. It was always the same thing.
After Sandra woke him, Spike got out of bed and locked himself in his bathroom. He had slept alone the remainder of the night, but his bedroom door wasn’t locked, and he thought that his lovers might try to walk in on him. He needed breakfast, but first he needed to bathe. Then he would need to find some clean clothes. As Spike took a long, hot shower, he couldn’t stop thinking about Tirek and his pink Pegasus sidekick. Spike unlocked the bathroom after brushing his teeth and walked across his bedroom to a touch screen computer by his closet. He browsed through its databanks of suits and ties, lining them up to create an ensemble. He kept browsing until he finally came across a black leather jacket and navy blue jeans. Then the program dressed an image of him and selected the clothes from his wardrobe’s automated conveyor system.
He got dressed and exited the walk-in, walked back through his room, and downstairs to the kitchen. It was warm. Celestia Soleil, a glamourous woman with long flowing hair and dressed in a transparent white lace nightgown, was flipping pancakes—tossing them high into the air and catching them without looking—while making a long shopping list and watching a recording of one of Spike’s old late night television interviews with Dr. Hearthswarmer in Neigh York.
Spike had known Dr. Hearthswarmer ever since she was a sniper in the army... but that was a long, long time ago. Back then, he had known her (and called her) by her codename: “Hot Lips.”
“I have just two words to say about our guest tonight: Spike Drake,” the doctor’s cohost said.
“That sexy man, Spike Drake? On my show? Right here? And I can touch him? Kiss him, maybe? Fabulous!”
Needless to say, Dr. Hearthswarmer was ecstatic.
“You know, not only is he one of the biggest names in the world, he’s dated the most beautiful women across Equestria, he owns a baseball team, his own dinner theatre, a series of restaurants, his own corporation, and he’s still an eligible bachelor,” her cohost said. “And speaking of bachelors, census reports tell us that there are 21 billion more singles now then there were in the 1970’s, and somebody designed a convention specifically for them: the Single in Neigh York Exhibition.”
Every word he said was true, especially about Spike.
When Spike wasn’t fighting magical creatures by night, he was the head of his own corporate business by day. Many people found him scary, even terrifying, but that was mostly because he got no less than a thousand bucks an hour just to run the company more or less by himself.
Spike didn’t pay much attention to the TV, at least not at first. Instead, he noticed a plate of bacon and eggs and a bowl of grapes, strawberries and sliced apples on the kitchen table, and a note right next to them.
“In an effort to inspire the all-important Equestrian Dragon to take time out of his busy schedule and actually consume a reasonable amount of sustenance, I have taken the liberty of composing a menu for today’s scheduled meals. It is my high hope that these elegantly prepared courses will not share the fate of their predecessors: resting cold and untouched on a computer console.” - Luna
Spike then glanced at the menu she had made.
Breakfast: six scrambled eggs, bacon, mixed fresh fruit bowl, freshly squeezed orange juice and milk.
Lunch: chicken breast and thigh with garlic seasoning, oven-baked golden herb potato, and streamed broccoli.
Dinner: sirloin steak, asparagus with garlic butter, and roasted red pepper soup with smoked Gouda.
Spike was quick to notice that pancakes were not on the menu—or on his plate—but Celestia had made everything else... except for the orange juice.
Spike’s ears finally tuned into the interview Celestia was watching.
“Tell me about yourself, Mister Drake,” Dr. Hearthswarmer said.
“Well, there’s not much to tell,” Spike replied.
“What do you do for a living?” she asked.
“I do nothing. I am rich,” he answered.
Spike could barely listen to what was being said. He decided that he’d heard enough when his past self (the one in the interview) shared that he didn’t believe in sun tanning—artificial or otherwise—because he knew how dangerous ultraviolet radiation was.
“Turn that off!” Spike ordered.
He took the TV remote from Celestia and changed the channel.
“Hey!” she snapped at him. “You just woke up and you’re already in one of your moods?”
“In some parts of the world, maybe not in yours, but here it’s considered cool to know what’s really going on,” Spike retorted.
The screen displayed the current events as Celestia started making the O.J.
“In other news, tonight is the grand opening of Club Pegasus, Canterlot City’s newest and hottest nightclub. Count on high society to flock to Cozy Glow’s very exclusive opening night celebration,”
Spike finished his milk after wolfing down his breakfast, and grabbed his lunch (which was in a sealed container) from the refrigerator, just as Celestia finished pouring the orange juice into a tall glass.
“Celestia, please don’t start with the juice again,” he said.
“Spike, you need your Vitamin C,” she replied. “Here’s your briefcase.”
“I don’t need my briefcase,” he protested.
“It’s been a couple of months now, so I say we go out to Malibuck,”
“Don’t tell me those lowlifes have been calling again,” he growled.
“They are your renters,” she reminded him. “Also, your appointment with Dr. Fauna is tomorrow, don’t look for an excuse to try and cancel or get out of it. Oh, and Fancy Pants is finally back in town. He’s coming over for dinner tonight.”
“Why?” Spike groaned.
“He’s your CEO!”
Spike just growled in reply as he headed for the door to his multi-car garage.
“Here,” she tried giving him the orange juice.
“Forget it!” he stated as he tried to leave.
“Spike...”
He stopped and turned to look at her.
“I love you, Celestia,” he said.
Spike grabbed a set of keys from a small box that hung on the wall, marched out the door and into the garage. He walked down the line of luxury vehicles, including a yellow 1990 Lamborghini Diablo, a red 2000 Ferrari 360 Modena and a black 1998 Porsche 911 Carrera, towards the section that he had set aside for his motorcycles. Spike passed a dark purple Suzuki B-King streetfighter, a black-and-red 2002 Triumph Speed Triple 955i, and a royal purple rad Chopper with an emerald green flame job, and selected the royal blue Aprilia RSV 1000 R.
As his own seat met the seat of the motorcycle, Spike’s pager went off. He checked it and saw a message from the ninja from the night before, basically asking Spike if they were still planning on meeting at the auto shop in town later that afternoon.
“It’s not even 8:30, and already Midnight is paging me,” Spike groaned in thought as he clamped his pager back to his belt.
He put on his modular helmet as one of the garage doors lifted up. Then he emerged from his home before the door was all the way open and sped down the highway toward Canterlot City.
It was mid-August, which meant kids were headed back to school. Spike’s motorcycle slowed and he paused to look at the dozens of young men and women in identical uniforms—black suit jackets with red trim, black slacks on the boys, and black and red plaid skirts on the girls—as they all walked up the low hill toward Canterlot City University.
Once a private all-girls college, infamous for accepting female students from Canterlot High School and Crystal Prep Academy, Canterlot City University (CCU) had become coed only a few years ago. However, the former female-exclusive institute still retained an 80% female population, keeping them in the majority. Spike Drake was selected to be its first male student—even though he would only be taking a few online credit hours to brush up on certain subjects—but after he took the entrance exam and scored the highest numbers in the history of the world... he turned it down. He didn’t really need the extra education. Even if he hadn’t been so smart, or rich, he could have easily gotten in. And even if Spike had gotten in, he knew he would never really fit in.
He didn’t really fit in anywhere.
Not only that, but nothing seemed to make him happy.
But he visited the school anyway. He didn’t even know why.
Force of habit, probably.
As he rounded the turn, Spike recognized a group of six young guys: Tender Taps, Rumble, Pipsqueak, Featherweight, Snips and Snails. Tender Taps was a very shy but very skilled dancer who unfortunately suffered from crippling stage fright; Rumble was a determined kid with a lot of heart who dreamed of following in his older brother’s footsteps as a fighter pilot, Pipsqueak, or “Pip” for short, was a brown-haired, brown-eyed foreign exchange student from Trottingham; Featherweight was an aspiring young reporter working as an intern at the Canterlot City Tribune, and Snips and Snails were a fat and skinny pair reminiscent of any of the old comedy duos. And they were talking to a group of six older girls; each of them different in her own particular way, and Spike had befriended each of them very, very gradually.
The first girl was Pinkie Pie; a very talented baker, but she had a habit of taking her clothes off at the most inappropriate of moments. The tanned tomboy with multicolored hair was Rainbow Dash; as well as being captain of literally every female sports team at the college (except cheerleading), and having a reputation for staying single, she held the school’s title of “Heaviest Drinker”. The lovely blonde was Applejack Smith; a deceptively strong farm girl, third year student and recent transfer, who didn’t believe in anything she couldn’t see with her eyes. The fiery redhead was Sunset Shimmer, a beautiful former mean girl of many talents and interests with an even more beautiful heart. Then there was Rarity; the resident drama queen and man-eater, ranked high on the Most Eligible Bachelorettes list. And last, but certainly not least, was Fluttershy; a breathtaking young babe of a woman, sweeter than any honey, who Spike knew (and recognized) from her bikini-clad photo spreads in Shy Girl Weekly magazine.
Rarity was nibbling on a low-fat mini-muffin while Pinkie Pie was gorging on a cheesy frittata and a box of bacon-flavored doughnuts.
“I hate to be the one to say this, Rarity, but you’re too picky,” Fluttershy was saying. “That’s why you can’t find a boyfriend.”
“Do I or do I not have the right to choose a good-looking guy?” Rarity huffed in reply. “It’s just that all the good-looking ones are so used to having sex. It is literally impossible to find any studs who are still virgins. I guarantee it.”
“You are seriously messed up!” Applejack stated. “Ya know that?”
Rainbow Dash looked over at Sunset Shimmer, who was repeatedly running one of her hands through her hair.
“Hey, did you get a haircut?” Dash asked. “Why’d you get a haircut?”
“It’s because she hopes Spike will be here, right?” Rarity teased.
“Spike has nothing to do with it,” Sunset lied.
“Wait, Spike’s back in town?” Pinkie inquired.
Fluttershy gasped, “As in ‘hot babysitter Spike’?”
She blushed as she remembered him tucking her into bed one night while her parents went out to dinner. She was just a little girl back then, but now she was a young woman, and Spike... well, Spike was a man of the world.
“Who?” Snails asked, as if he didn’t know (because he didn’t).
“Spike Drake, of the Drake Foundation for Single Fathers,” Fluttershy said, “also known as Spike Drake, the youngest richest man in the world.”
“We used to beg our parents to call him,” Pinkie said. “I think Fluttershy even chipped in her allowance once!”
Fluttershy blushed again.
“What’s so great about Spike?” Rumble asked. “I mean, what do you girls see in him?”
“Should we start with his feet and work our way up?” Pinkie replied.
“Or his hair and work our way down?” Rarity added. “He’s just such a... man. I mean, he’s a super mysterious hunk with a perfectly sculpted body. Not to mention suave, sophisticated, and handsome...”
“He sure is good-looking, isn’t he?” Applejack asked.
“I’m just as handsome as he is!” Snips interjected. “If I had his chin and his chest... and his muscles... and his deep voice...”
“You forgot his cute dimples!” Fluttershy put in.
“Spike rocks,” Pinkie said. “Hard worker, sharp dresser, never gives you crap or talks back, you gotta respect that.”
“Respect,” Rainbow Dash agreed.
When they first met Spike Drake, there was very little known about him. What people did know about him was that he was stunningly wealthy. He collected everything from vintage automobiles to fine wines; he was living a life that most people dream about. A life that was everyone’s envy. He had (among many other things) a 30 million dollar house in south Flankida, one of the largest townhouses in Neigh York City, a massive apartment in Mareis, Prance; his own private island in the Carriagebean, a sprawling ranch in New Mexicolt, a helicopter, two airplanes, mines full of diamonds, an endless supply of clams and oysters for harvesting pearls, and of course girls, girls, girls, girls, and more girls!
They had all heard that Spike practiced and taught all kinds of martial arts, so not only was he super-manly, but super tough, too. All the male students at Canterlot City University idolized him and the female students practically fell at his feet. He was a friend to animals as well as a philanthropist, plus he had been named “Sexiest Man Alive”multiple times in all of the most popular magazines. He was a modern day knight in a world overrun with brainless morons. But he was so popular that he seemed to show no interest in dating at all. That being said, that didn’t keep women from continuing to confess their love to him.
“Well, there’s no question that Spike’s a twelfth-degree hottie with great hair, dreamy eyes, and a cute smile, but that doesn’t change the fact that...” Sunset paused, startled, and felt a peculiar sensation sweep along her spine. Her lips parted into a soft gasp. “He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?” she asked.
“No, just over there,” Pinkie said, pointing across the courtyard.
Sunset swung around and whitened; for she saw that the man in question had pulled up along the curb across the courtyard, removed his helmet and stood up straight, getting off his motorcycle.
At six-foot-two, Spike was tall with strong arms and long legs; a build that one would expect from someone who worked out at a gym almost daily. His smile was perfect, his eyes were emeralds and his green hair—which had been slicked back—almost gleamed in the sunlight. His hands were large and manicured. His skin was bronzed, and his face seemed to have been frozen in time, untouched by the developments of style and technology. But, despite the fact that he was very well-built, his movements were elegant and graceful like a big jungle cat.
As he walked slowly away from his motorcycle, and made his way across the courtyard, he was met with multiple passionate gazes and sighs from the female students and a collective “Whoa,” from the guys.
“Hey, check out that dude...” they said.
“Wh-who’s that?” others asked.
“I like him,” one woman said.
“I love him...” said another woman.
“Wow, he’s hot!”
“He’s really hot,”
“He’s beyond hot!”
“He’s like a model,”
“Is he a model?”
“I don’t know,”
“He’s handsome...”
“Who is he?!” they all wondered.
Suddenly, a mob of the girls stampeded toward him as if he were a rock star, trying to touch him or just to get a glimpse of the famous young man.
“Wh-What’s your name?” one of them asked timidly.
“I’m Spike Drake,” he smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”
His voice was deep and rich like dark chocolate, mature and extremely soothing. And just like that, their heads were swimming. When he looked at them, all their normal thoughts, their priorities, their feelings... all seemed to just vanish into thin air.
“Like, wow!” they sighed.
“Rrrrroow!” others purred.
“Oh, my Faust, you’re such a cutie!”
“Are you single?”
“Are you free? Do you wanna hang out with us?”
“Please go out with me!”
“No, don’t go out with her, go out with me!”
“Or you could just be my boyfriend!”
“I only have eyes for you!”
“You’re the greatest! Marry me!”
No less than 21 of the female students surrounded him, almost screaming, “No, with me! With me!”
“As if!” Spike thought as he gently shoved them all away.
Spike would never date a woman younger than him, especially not a college girl. They were like puppies—or some other hyperactive animal that jumps and slobbers all over you—always in constant need of attention.
“He’s got a motorcycle?” Rainbow Dash asked. “Now that’shot!”
Being an athlete, Dash was markedly attracted to such things. Plus it was against the University’s rules for students to come to school on a motorbike—just one of the many reasons Spike didn’t attend there—which Rainbow Dash liked. And it gave Spike kind of a bad boy vibe, which made Dash like him even more.
“He’s a total player!” said Snips. “I heard he scored five cheerleaders, the coach and the coach’s daughter all in one summer!”
“Wait, Spike is ‘Dirty Drake’?” Rumble asked.
“I thought he was just a myth,” Pip admitted.
“All the girls at dance camp knew about him,” Tender Taps shared. “He’s not even allowed inside the classrooms!”
“Come on, guys, those are just rumors,” Featherweight told them.
As Spike looked at them, he couldn’t help but think about their lives and how nice it must be to just be normal eighteen, nineteen, and/or twenty-something-year-old kids in school. But then he thought about how his meditation techniques needed some work, and of how he could use a couple hours concentrating on his breathing control. He was halfway across the courtyard when he was stopped by another trio of cute girls.
The first was Apple Bloom, a redhead with a pink bow in her hair, who was Applejack’s younger sister, and she was currently dating Tender Taps. The second girl was Sweetie Belle, as well as being Rarity’s younger sister, she had some kind of love-hate relationship with Rumble (they weren’t dating, but no one really knew for sure exactlywhat it was). And Scootaloo, another tan tomboy who looked up to Rainbow Dash as a big sister. The buzz about Scootaloo was that her parents shared joint custody of their daughter with her aunts. So when Scootaloo wasn’t going to school, she spent part of the year in Chicoltgo with the aunts and the other part in Austailia (that’s AusTAILia, not Australia) with her mom and dad.
“Looks like you’re a little late again today,” Scootaloo said.
“So?” Spike replied.
“Well, we’d just like to see you a little more in the morning before we have to go to class, that’s all,” Apple Bloom said.
“Oh?” He couldn’t help but smile. “You’re starting to sound like you want to go out with me or something.”
“It’s not ‘any’ or ‘something,’ I do want to go out with you,” Sweetie Belle replied quietly. “That is, if you want to.”
“Hey, Drake! Don’t make them cry!” Rumble warned. “If you do, you’ll have their big sisters coming after you!”
“Oh, don’t worry!” Sweetie Belle said. “We’re not crying at all!”
“Okay, I hear ya,” Spike told them. “Let’s just see how I do tomorrow.”
“Spike Drake!” Applejack shouted.
Spike ducked as Applejack threw a textbook at his head. It flew across the courtyard and landed in a tree, scaring the birds that were nesting in it.
“You’ve got some nerve, picking on my little sister, you dirtbag!” she said as she grabbed him by the collar of his leather jacket.
“Would you relax?” Spike replied. “I was only talking to her.”
“That’s right, sis!” Apple Bloom added. “He wasn’t picking on me.”
Applejack slowly let go of him. As tough as she was, AJ deeply cared for her younger sister... but she cared for Spike just as much (even if she had an odd way of showing it). He was one of the few good things in her life, in all of their lives. And she cherished every moment with him, every touch.
And feeling his leather in her hand was one of those many moments.
Spike shrugged as he readjusted his jacket and looked toward the others, and Fluttershy smiled a big smile as she waved at him.
“Yo, Spike, what’s cracking?” Rainbow Dash said.
“What’s up, Dash?” he replied.
“Spike, what’s up?” Pinkie asked. “Want some bacon-flavored doughnuts?”
“Nah, I’m good,” he politely refused.
They were soon joined by another girl. Trixie Lulamoon, daughter of the famous Las Pegasus stage magician Jack Pot, and one of Spike’s few, oldest and closest friends. She had grown up to be every bit the magician her father was, both on and off the stage.
She shuffled the playing cards she was holding and told Spike to draw three from the deck: the Queen of Spades, the Ten of Diamonds, and the Ace of Hearts.
“You’re going to be late again tomorrow,” she predicted. “On your way to work, you’ll have a romantic encounter with a sweet girl. You’ll forget all about the time, and that’s why you’re going to be late.”
“Is that so?” Applejack smiled.
“Okay, what’s with that face?” Spike asked her.
“Nothing at all, lover boy,” AJ replied.
Spike brushed off her comment as he looked at Fluttershy again and, noticing that she didn’t have her lunch with her, gave her his meal—the garlic chicken with the golden potato and broccoli—and remembered that it was the exact same meal he was eating when she last saw him.
It was a couple of years back when Spike was walking along the wall of the Univserity’s main building, debating on whether or not to enroll in those few credit hours he had thought about taking.
He had been wondering where to eat when he looked into the courtyard and saw a girl with cyan eyes and very, very long hair sitting beneath one of the trees, all by herself. She was a third year student, maybe even a little older than that, even if she didn’t look like it. She was at least two years older than the rest of them, including Applejack.
Spike approached her and sat down beside her.
“Hi...” she said softly.
“Hi yourself,” he replied. “Are you here alone?”
“The leaves sure are pretty, aren’t they?” she asked, looking up at them. “They really take my breath away.”
“They’ll be gone soon,” he said. “Just wait. By this time next week, it’ll be like they were never here in the first place.”
“That’s true. But they’ll come back next year. And the year after that, and the year after that. If only for a while, they’ll be beautiful again,”
Spike removed the lid from the box containing his food and the girl’s mouth started to water from the aroma.
“Did you make that?” she inquired.
“No, one of my friends did,” he replied. “Would you like some?”
She smiled at his offer, then he quickly remembered that he had only one set of eating utinsels with him... so he gave her his whole meal.
“It’s really good,” she said after tasting some of the potato and broccoli.
He smiled in reply.
“Let me ask you, do you like this school?”
“No, not really,” Spike told her.
“I have to say I like this school very, very much,” she said. “I used to have friends I could talk to and teachers I was close to. But now, it’s just... I was sick, out of school for a long time last year, so everything’s different. Everybody that I knew is graduated and moved on with their lives, so there isn’t anyone I know here anymore. Oh, I’m sorry! I’ve only just met you and I’m telling you all this!”
“It’s okay,” he smiled.
“I have to admit, I’ve always been shy and kind of clumsy. Everybody I’ve known used to always tease me about it,” she said. “I guess I don’t stand out much, even in my own classes.”
“Well, if you’re always looking so sad, you won’t make any friends. Aren’t you in any of the clubs?”
“Well, I really wanted to join the Midsummer Theatre, but I don’t know,” she shared. “Physically, I’m weak, so I can’t be very active. I don’t think I’d get any parts.”
“If that’s the case then just do what you can,” Spike told her. “Why not at least check them out after class?”
She did... only to find the room that its members usually met in was empty.
She also learned that the Midsummer Theatre had been on hiatus since Charity Kindheart retired in March of the previous year. And even though it (technically) was headed by one of the students, Miss Coco Pommel, it had been disbanded because there weren’t enough people interested in it to keep it going.
“I had heard they’d always had few members,” the girl admitted.
“But they can get going again once all the requirements are met,” Spike said. “Why don’t you just hang in there a little bit longer? I’ll help you.”
“Can I ask you something? I’m sorry, but I don’t understand why you’re being so nice to me? You only just met me a little while ago,”
“Why am I being nice? Don’t know, good question,”
He stood up to leave, telling her that she could keep the rest of his meal.
“By the way, my name is Fluttershy,” she stood up and properly introduced herself. “What about you?”
“Does it matter? I’m just a guy who decided to share his lunch with you,”
“It might not mean much to you, but if I ran into you again and didn’t even know your name I would feel bad,” she told him.
Seeing her point, Spike smiled at her again. He couldn’t help it. She just made him smile, it was like an infection (but a good kind).
“I’m Spike Drake,” he said.
“It’s very nice to meet you,”
“Yes, same here,”
She extended her hand to him and he took it. That’s when she noticed a dark mark on the back of his right hand, at the base of his scarred knuckles. It curled around his wrist, all the way up his forearm and ended just short of his elbow.
“Hey, that’s a really cool dragon tattoo,” Fluttershy complimented.
“Actually, it’s a birthmark,” he replied.
They heard the school bell ring and Fluttershy bid him farewell before taking off for class.
At the time, Spike didn’t think much of it. But now that he looked back, he realized that was the second time he’d met Fluttershy.
That morning.
The next time Spike saw Fluttershy, he found her standing in the courtyard with a broom, sweeping up by herself. After she had finished, they talked and they talked. Somehow, the conversation shifted to the point where Spike shared that he had been a member of the city’s boxing club. But when he said that he’d quit, Fluttershy asked if he’d come to hate sports because of that. He told her no, but he also told her that he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d put on the gloves.
“Hey, Spike, why not spar with me?” she asked. “Teach me how to box. I’ll wait for you in the boxing gym after class tomorrow.”
The following day, Spike stood at one of the colossal windows of his mansion, looking out at the cloudy sky. Fluttershy’s words still echoed in his ears.
“Teach me how to box.”
He thought that, because it was raining, there was no way she would be there... just waiting for him. But he decided to go to the gym anyway. And when he did, he found her standing in the rain... without a coat and without an umbrella.
“What are you doing out here?” he shouted. “You should have gone home!”
“But if you came after I left, I wouldn’t have been able to meet you to box,”
“There was no guarantee that I would come, was there?”
“But you did, didn’t you?”
Spike’s face softened, and his anger was quickly replaced with shock.
“You’ve always been there for me,” Fluttershy said. “I thought the least I could do was spar with you to pay you back. At least show me how to punch and how to block. I’ve never seen a boxer throw a punch up close...”
Spike nodded and they went into the locker rooms to change. When Spike came back out, he saw that Fluttershy was cornered by a group of three boys: Hoops Dunkington, Dumb-Bell and Score. They were all jocks, but not good ones. They could run well, but they couldn’t hold onto a ball even if it had a handle.
“Hey, little lady,” Hoops began. “Are you here alone?”
“You’re pretty cute,” Dumb-Bell added.
“Do you wanna come have a little fun with us?” Score asked.
One of them snatched something from Fluttershy’s neck.
“That’s mine! Give it back!” she shouted.
“Admit it!” Score taunted her. “You believe in dragons!”
“So what if I do?” Fluttershy shouted.
“Everyone knows they’re just fairy tales!” Dumb-Bell added.
She tried to fight them, but they easily overpowered her.
“You’ve got really nice tits. The real deal,” Hoops said as he reached for them. “And dressing like this make you even cuter—”
Then, as if he’d suddenly just appeared out of nowhere, Spike positioned himself between Hoops and Fluttershy, and slapped Hoops’ hand away.
“She may look cute but that doesn’t give you permission to touch her, you bastard!” he stated.
The three boys were taken aback by Spike’s interference.
“Get lost,” Hoops stated.
Spike didn’t really want to fight them... unfortunately, getting their butts handed to them was the only way those three were going to learn their lesson.
“I have to warn you. I promised my mother, a long time ago. She said I had to give people a chance to walk away,” he said.
“You a momma’s boy?” Hoops asked.
“She liked to see fair play,”
“There’s three of us and one of you,”
Spike folded the fingers of his left hand flat against his palm. He raised the hand, very slowly. Then brought it level with his shoulder, palm out. Hoops stared at it. The way Spike’s fingers were folded made them think he was hiding something. But what? He snapped his fingers open. There was nothing there. In the same split second he moved and landed a right cross to Hoops’ nose.
“What the Tartarus?” Hoops exclaimed as he cradled his face with his hands.
“Didn’t your mothers tell you that three-against-one fights are unfair?” Spike asked them.
Enraged, Hoops ran at Spike with his head low, aiming for Spike’s chest; looking to drive him backward and have him stumble and fall to the ground, whereupon the other two could pile in with him and stomp Spike and kick him to their hearts’ content.
That was a big mistake.
Hoops charged and Spike turned slightly sideways, bent his knees a little, timed it just right, and drove all his weight up and forward off his back foot through his shoulder straight into Hoops’ face, breaking his already bleeding nose.
Spike had hardly moved at all, but Hoops bounced back, stunned, staggering on stiff legs, desperately trying to stay upright.
The three punks spread out... and Spike proceeded to give them a beatdown.
First, he headbutted Score. Then he delivered an elbow to Dumb-Bell’s jaw.
He practically danced around them.
“How’d he do that?” Dumb-Bell thought.
Spike stepped in and kicked Dumb-Bell in the groin, but with his left foot. Right-footed, he would have popped bits of the guy’s pelvis out through his nose.
“A rotten way to win in a fight,” Spike thought. “But it’s effective.” He added in thought, “One day that big soft heart of yours is what’ll get you killed.”
But not today.
When Spike’s back was to him, Hoops pulled out a TASER and zapped Spike from behind with it... but the shock had absolutely no effect on him. Then Spike turned and punched Hoops square in the jaw after he took the stun gun from him and crushed it in his bare hand.
“I said, leave her alone!” Spike growled.
Hoops gasped and swore that he saw fire coming from Spike’s mouth, but he couldn’t be sure because before he could even throw another cheap shot, Spike had crouched, spun around and swept Hoops’ legs out from under him.
In the end, Spike was untouched—except for the TASER attack—and Hoops, Score and Dumb-Bell all ended up on their backs.
“Maybe now you’ll think twice before disrespecting women again,” he said.
“W-What are you?” Hoops asked.
“Get out of here,” Spike said strongly. “Now.”
The three bullies finally backed off. They slowly got to their feet, groggy from their injuries, and took off running.
Spike turned to see Fluttershy, cowering in the corner.
“It’s all right,” he said. “You’re safe now.”
Fluttershy was breathing heavily as she looked at him.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
That’s when Spike saw the tears in her eyes.
“I-I’m sorry. I-I-I didn’t mean...” she cried softly. “I’m always... I’m always causing you trouble... I’m...”
Fluttershy suddenly felt lightheaded, like she was overcome with a fever. She fainted as Spike reached out and caught her before she hit the ground.
The last thing she heard before passing out was Spike calling her name.
When she awoke, she was lying in her bed at home with her parents looking at her with great concern.
“Fluttershy, we were so worried,” her mother said.
“Your trainer told us you had collapsed,” her father added.
Fluttershy’s memory of that day was so murky she could barely remember it.
“My... my trainer?” she said weakly.
“Your trainer who said he was teaching you self-defense,” her mother said. “Fluttershy, why didn’t you tell us you were taking a self-defense class?”
“It’s okay,” her father gently jumped in. “He also told us that he was teaching you free of charge, so don’t worry about it. And because he was so quick in getting you to Doctor Horse, you’re going to be all right... Try to rest now.”
Before Mr. and Mrs. Shy left her to rest, they also told Fluttershy that the doctor had told them that she needed to stay in bed for a few days. But what her parents didn’t tell her was that as soon they got home, Spike was on his way out. That’s when he introduced himself to them as Fluttershy’s self-defense trainer and explained to them what had happened. Then they told him that as a thank you for his kindness in saving their daughter’s life they were forever in his debt. If he ever needed anything, all he had to do was ask them.
Fluttershy turned her head and saw a long white and green striped garment neatly folded on top of her nightstand.
Spike had left her his scarf.
The scarf he had been wearing earlier that day.
Fluttershy had never been strong as a child, and not just physically.
She had been depressed for a very long time. At cleanup time at school, the whole class would work together at first; but before Fluttershy knew it, she would be left all alone. She tried to get over her depression without anyone’s help. She had lived like that her whole life. But then, when she met Spike, she realized that it wasn’t enough. Thanks to him, she felt much better. He made her so happy that she wasn’t depressed at all anymore.
After that, Spike started going to the boxing gym again... and he started teaching Fluttershy more than just self-defense. Their hearts pounded wildly every time they trained together. Eventually, Fluttershy’s health improved to the point that she wasn’t sickly at all.
Then one day, after their sparring session, Fluttershy said, “I never really thanked you for coming to my rescue.”
“It was nothing,” he replied.
“I-I’m so glad... so glad that I got up the courage to talk to you,” she went on. “I thought you wouldn’t forgive me... after-after I let you get hurt that day.”
“I’m the one who should be apologizing to you,” he told her. “I’m really sorry those guys tried to take advantage of you like that.”
There was a moment of silence before she asked, “I’m so silly, aren’t I?”
“Yes, but you’re also sweet,” he said.
“You think so?”
“We’re more alike than you think. Things may be hard sometimes, but instead of crying alone, call me,”
Fluttershy smiled as she wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, but not before two of them fell onto her chest.
That’s when Spike noticed the piece of gold hanging from the necklace that she was wearing. It was a tiny gold figurine of a dragon with ruby eyes.
“Where did you get that?” he asked.
“It’s none of your business,” she snapped, suddenly defensive.
“Where did you get it?”
When she still wouldn’t answer him, Spike decided to change the question.
“Fluttershy, did you have some kind of childhood experience with dragons?”
She looked away, smiling rather sheepishly.
She remembered that night all too well. The night she first saw the dragon.
A full moon was hanging in the midnight blue sky, and a comet trailed light as it shot over the trees in the neighborhood.
Inside one of the pleasant houses, a breeze blew through the curtains of Fluttershy’s open bedroom window. She awoke, sat up, and noticed a strange shape being cast from her window and onto the wall across from it. She glanced over her shoulder, peeled off her covers, and climbed out of bed. At her window, she peered outside to find a purple and green dragon land on the lawn in her back yard. She gaped as the dragon looked around. It walked past a shrub then slipped something underneath it. Further down, he hid another object and hurried off. Excited, Fluttershy ran downstairs in her pajamas. She rushed outside to find the dragon already gone. She glanced over the empty lawn, then looked down to find two big emeralds in the grass and a tiny gold dragon on a chain between them. Fluttershy picked up the gold dragon necklace and studied it. She glanced around again, then returned her fascinated gaze to the piece of jewelry.
That night was almost 20 years ago...
Fluttershy had kept the two emeralds and the golden dragon necklace, which she always wore. She never took it off, not when she went to sleep... not even to bathe. Now, she collected dragon figurines and other related memorabilia. She even had a stuffed baby dragon plush doll that she loved to cuddle with. It was one of the things that she almost never let her mother wash. And to this day, she still slept with that plushie under her arm every night.
Fluttershy also dabbled in cryptozoology as well as mythology; she was like a mythical creature fangirl. She read books on dragons and dragon folklore all the time -- strictly small press. Of course, it had been over 1600 years since the last confirmed dragon sighting (every one since then was unconfirmed) but humanity still viewed them as a threat, as monsters.
“‘Monster’ is in the eye of the beholder,” Fluttershy once said. “They fight us because we keep trying to kill them.”
She would have even gotten a pet dragon, if that were possible. But she settled for a turquoise python she’d named Rupert. Speaking of which, that’s who was slithering up Rarity’s leg, causing her to shriek.
“Stop, you’re scaring him!” Fluttershy said.
“Scaring him?” Rarity asked.
“He’s just giving you a hug,” Fluttershy replied.
“I don’t know why you had to bring that with you. I hate that thing! It could have bitten me!”
“Rupert is a python. He doesn’t bite, he squeezes,” Fluttershy corrected her. “Besides, I can’t leave him alone at home. Wherever I go, he goes.”
“Yuck!” Rarity exclaimed after she witnessed Fluttershy kissing the top of Rupert’s head.
As gross as Rarity thought Fluttershy’s pet was, Fluttershy thought that Rupert was the cutest, most adorable thing in the world... besides Spike, of course.
“Come on, Rupert, say hello,” she said. “Tell Rarity you want to be friends.”
Spike smiled again as he glanced at Sunset Shimmer’s homework. The quick look at her books told him that they were learning about the ancient pyramids of South Equestria.
“You know, some people believe that the South Equestrians didn’t even build the pyramids,” Rumble commented. “They think it was aliens.”
“Actually, it was goblins,” Spike muttered under his breath.
“What?” Tender Taps asked.
“Nothing,” Spike said quickly.
Being a dragon secretly living among humans, Spike had a more than thorough knowledge of the many truths behind history’s greatest mysteries, especially those connected to magical creatures. And since humanity in general had little to no realization of these facts or events, he had to be careful with what he said and who he said it to. But every once in a while, he would slip up. Even a dragon trained to curb his tongue had to be mindful of such things.
But they didn’t argue with him.
All they could focus on were those gorgeous green eyes of his.
“So, any of you have any big plans for after class?” Spike asked them.
“The city finally reopened the downtown skate park,” Rainbow Dash replied. “I’m gonna hit that! So, are you in or are you in?”
“I wish, but I’ve got to work today,” Spike said.
“No! Not again!” Dash protested. “That’s the eleventh time this month you’ve blown us off!”
“Maybe next time,” he told her.
“All right, but I’m telling you, you’re missing out,”
“I’ll see you all around,”
He started walking back across the courtyard and the girls’ eyes zoomed in on his backside.
“I could watch that forever,” Pinkie sighed with a smile.
“I’d much rather sit and look at Spike all day than listen to another one of Twilight’s lectures on the existence of ‘magical creatures’,” Rainbow Dash put in.
Ah, Twilight Sparkle, originally one of the best students at the University, now working to become its first student teacher. But even though she was only a student instructor, she taught with an iron fist just to keep everyone else in line, girls as well as the boys. And along the way, she’d gained a reputation among the student body as a strict man-hating demon dictator whose voice cracked every time she got worked up, which unfortunately was way too often.
And speaking of Twilight’s voice cracking, that is exactly what they heard almost directly behind them.
“How many times do I have to tell you? Shirts should be buttoned and belts fastened at the waist!”
It felt like a dark cloud had suddenly settled over the courtyard as everyone turned their heads and saw Twilight chewing out a group of boys whose uniforms were “not up to standard.”
Almost as soon as Sparkle was done ripping into them, she started ripping another trio of boys: Hoops Dunkington, Dumb-Bell and Score—the same three boys that used to bully Fluttershy—who were looking at a magazine. Hoops (the one that was holding said magazine) quickly snapped it shut.
“Is that pornographic material you’ve got there?” Twilight inquired.
“No, it’s just a magazine,” Hoops said. “It’s got some bikini pin-ups, but they’re tasteful, we swear!”
“Confiscated!” she shouted, snatching it out of his hands.
“That is so unfair!” Hoops exclaimed. “You girls get to do whatever you want, but we get punished for every little thing!”
“Talk about inequality of the genders,” Dumb-Bell grunted.
“If you’re gonna be tough on us guys you have to be tough on the girls, too!” Score added.
Twilight scowled. “You’re right. But inappropriate content is banned, no matter who is in possession of it,” she said. She glanced at Spike out of the corner of her eye. “What are you looking at?!” she yelled at him and he just snorted in reply before walking back to his motorcycle.
“Twilight, I had a question about the assignment,” Applejack said.
“Oh, what?” she replied, a little more pleasantly (but not much).
“What I want to know is how you can know the size of a dragon’s claws,” Applejack pointed to her paper. “I mean, it’s Mythology 101, but you’re talking about stuff like elves and unicorns... stuff that ain’t even real!” she stated.
“If she only knew the truth,” Spike thought with a smile.
“Well, that is certainly the prevailing belief, isn’t it?” Twilight asked. “However, some great minds have devoted the bulk of their careers, and even their lives, to proving otherwise. Of course, this kind of academic courage doesn’t come without a price... not unlike being ridiculed by one’s colleagues or being banished from all the other respectable educational institutions in the world,even being reduced to teaching in a... COED SCHOOL!!!!”
For a moment, all that could be heard was the sound of a lone cricket chirping among the silence of the courtyard. Then Spike coughed, “Loser,” into his hand, and before Twilight could say anything else, he started his motorcycle and sped off right as the school’s bell rang.
“Isn’t he just the cutest?” a charmed Fluttershy gushed.
“He seemed real down,” Rainbow Dash noticed.
“I know. Sometimes I wish I could figure him out,” said Pinkie.
“Poor guy,” Sunset added. “He acts so together, but he’s really very lonely.”
“Such class, such distinction...” Rarity sighed. “Can you imagine what it must be like to be the youngest, richest, and handsomest philanthropist in Equestria’s history?” she asked them.
“No!” Twilight said, rather harshly.
“Go easy on him,” Applejack told her. “It’s not easy growing up an orphan.”
The girls—especially AJ, Sunset, Fluttershy, Pinkie, Dash and Rarity—all watched Spike go with feelings of great sympathy. For as long as they knew him, Spike was a born fighter. He always had to fend for himself. It was because of this that they saw themselves as the closest thing he had to family.
In addition to his life of luxury and privilege, Spike Drake was obligated to undertake responsibilities far beyond those of any normal person.
Spike presided over Drake Enterprises, a multinational corporation that started out as a simple charitable foundation and grew into one of the largest of both in the world. With several thousand branches across all the known nations, they specialized in everything from eradicating plagues to ending starvation. Several small businesses, once bankrupt—and hundreds of thousands of jobs about to disappear forever—were given a new lease on life thanks to that handsome young trillionaire. As for Spike himself, he was a businessman, an oil tycoon, an industrialist, a philanthropist, owner of Equestria’s largest diamond mining operation, a professional treasure hunter and private eye. He owned buildings all over the world, model agencies, the Miss Equestria Pageant, jetliners, golf courses, casinos, and private resorts.
But his first action as head of Drake Enterprises was changing the name of his charity organization to the Drake Foundation—which was created to help those less fortunate (mostly single fathers who needed financial support)—in honor of his parents: Locke Vale Drake and Barbara “Barb” Vanessa Drake (née Ness).
When Spike was young, he got separated from his parents when he was helping them save the citizens of a small village from an attacking army that burned their homes to the ground. Spike’s father, Locke, went down fighting while Spike and Barb got the children of the village away to safety and drew the monsters away so that the humans would live.
Ever since that day, Spike vowed revenge against all that would wish others harm. He worked to fulfill this promise by travelling the globe, learning various skills and trades from the world’s most renowned fighters, visionaries and heroes. Now, as the Equestrian Dragon (one of the world’s most loyal defenders), Spike patrolled Equestria and its surrounding territories using his mental and physical strengths as a dragon to bring his enemies to justice.
After his visit to Canterlot City University, Spike drove into downtown and stopped along the curb in front of one of his many properties: an antique store that sold lucky charms (silver dollars, dream catchers, game pieces, and the like) as well as bits and pieces from all of his company’s archaeological digs.
This place had an inventory of six Damarescus blades, three telescopes, eight compasses, seven royal tabards, eight warm capes, 228 chainmail shirts, three pairs of fine, high quality gloves; six hidden blades (added a deadly edge to martial arts), 136 scabbards, 13 metal shields, 70 pairs of tall black leather boots (designed for all types of weather and wear), over 652 daggers, 765 sets of leather armor, 610 sharpening stones, 869 wooden shields, 90 adventurer’s kits, 139 practice swords made of wood, 100 bars of fine steel, 1500 bottles of oil, over 3500 training manuals, 203 meteor fragments, 39 Orichalcum nuggets (pieces of rare metal rumored to originate from an ancient undersea empire), pieces of hardwood lumber, grimoire dust, midnight roots (harvested at the dead of night), crypt mushrooms (said to have faint magical properties), 1400 crystal shards (from deep underground caverns), 1026 firestones (stones that had the magical ability to maintain heat for days), metal ores, potent leaves (for healing), 1544 sunspire feathers (from birds that lived in mountains above the clouds), arcane scripts (texts delving into the ancient secrets), pieces of cloth, a thousand common herbs, pieces of crude iron, large bones, several lengths of strong rope, leather strips and bits of string – most of it up for sale.
They also sold unique weapons and even magical products (but they were kept in a section of the store that was off limits to non-magic humans): including eight giant harpoons, seven hunter caltrops, a set of five poison darts, seven Invisibility Potions, six Time Freezes, 67 Miracle Scrolls, eleven magic orbs (that showed a great many things to those who mastered their use), 32 tornados in jars, as well as potent healing potions, super antidotes, revive scrolls, arrows, axes, and something called a “Titan Energy Flask.”
Spike was looking at a set of three mystic rings (two silver and one gold—the silver ones had an emerald and a ruby embedded into them while the gold one had a sapphire) – engraved rings that enhanced their wearer’s natural magic talent – when he was suddenly grabbed by a dark skinned young man with brown hair, brown eyes and round glasses.
“You! You there! Come with me!” he shouted.
He half-dragged Spike across the street, toward a blue car that had a massive dip right in the center of the hood.
“Just look at that dent!” the guy kept shouting. “I know that some tool fell and caused this. And I’m gonna need you to be my witness.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to ask someone who’s not involved,” said a new voice.
“I’ll say it again: I did not drop any tool on your car. If I had, I would never try to hide it,” Midnight went on.
“And why should I believe you?” the bespectacled guy shouted.
“If you want me to pay for repairs, I will,” Midnight replied.
“Ha! So, you admit it!!”
“I admit nothing. All I want is for you to think about what I said someday in the very near future. If what I told you on this day was true or false. Think about that in your final resting place... beside the one you love!”
“What the Tartarus is this guy talking about?” the other guy asked Spike.
“Listen carefully, my friend,” Midnight continued. “Every day, people keep hurting each other. It’s no wonder that you doubt what others tell you. But when you’re no longer able to believe in anything, you will not be able to feel the love in others. Are you content going through hardships all alone, living an empty life? Are you able to laugh at life? Tell me, can you even laugh freely?”
“Y-yeah, I guess I can,” the guy in the glasses replied.
“I see... Well, in that case, I would assume that you are probably loved,” Midnight replied. “Then go in peace and live your life with strength so that your love will never die.”
One of the things Spike liked about Midnight Radiance was the fact that he could say such hammy lines with such conviction.
Spike bent alongside the car so that his eyes were level with the edge of the hood. Upon closer inspection of the vehicle, Spike’s Dragon Vision picked up something that the car’s owner did not.
“I’d say it was a cat,” he told them.
“A cat?” the two men echoed.
“If you look at it from my angle, what do you see?” Spike asked.
The guy in glasses did, and said, “I don’t believe it!”
“A cat probably jumped down from that wall and dented your car,” Spike said. “A really fat cat, if I had to guess.”
Then, as if on cue, a really fat cat emerged from beneath the guy’s car, meowing and moving so low that it looked more like it was crawling than walking.
“Yep. That’d do it,” Spike said. “Now, I believe you owe this gentleman an apology for accusing him without proof.”
The guy in the glasses hung his head before swallowing his pride and said that he was sorry. Midnight just smiled and thanked him for the apology.
“Luckily for you, you were right in front of the auto shop when it happened,” Spike added as he motioned to the neighboring building... and the sign over their heads.
Sure enough, it was an auto shop right next to the antique store.
Another of Spike’s many properties, this place was run by three slender, bluish-white babes with raven hair and eyes that shined like liquid silver, all dressed in matching blue jumpsuits. All three greeted Spike with a certain warmth and familiarity, then they immediately got to work on the bespectacled guy’s car.
“Hey, Spike,” one of them said.
“Hey, Cat,” he replied.
“Hi ya, Spike,” said another.
“Hi, Sky,” he answered.
“How’s it goin’, Spike?” the third asked.
“Great, Eve,” he said.
Both Midnight Radiance and the guy with glasses were taken aback by their appearance, but Spike talked to the trio of women like they were old friends... because they were. Spike had known them for so long he had lost count of how many years it had been since they met.
“Spike, who and or what are these beauties?” Midnight inquired when they were out of earshot of the guy with glasses.
“Fix-It Elves,” Spike said. “They repair everything that’s broken in the city.”
“They just fix everything? Like everything?”
“Anything they can get their hands on,” Spike replied. “Have you ever wondered why my collection of muscle cars have run for over 50 years?”
Like all Elves, these three were close to humans in height, but thinner and more beautiful. And for those of you who don’t know, Elves were magical creatures closely related to humans, and most were hard workers with generally positive attitudes.
Common Elves looked exactly like humans, except for their pointed ears. Even then, the difference between humans and Elves was so small that most humans would not even realize that they were talking to an Elf. And it was because of this that Elves could easily blend into the crowds without revealing their true identities. Due to their close physical resemblance to humans, Elves lived in both the human and magical realms. And as such, they could live however they wanted to. They could have jobs and attend school in both worlds and without fear of discrimination. Of course, that was not always true. In the case of Cat, Sky and Eve, many people were reluctant to hire them because of their bluish-white skin, but Spike was not. He hired them on the spot and gave them almost total control of his repair worker operations.
Spike left them to their work and returned to his motorcycle.
“You coming?” he asked Midnight Radiance.
“You go, I’ll catch up,” Midnight replied.
Spike took off and Midnight (after briefly looking around to make sure no one was watching him) leapt up to the roof of the auto shop and started parkouring across the rooftops. He followed Spike closely until Spike was outside the city limits, then Midnight bounded from the edge of the final building and started jumping through the trees.
Meanwhile, at an airbase in the heart of the forest, a private jet displaying the purple and green logo for Drake Airlines taxied on the tarmac, and a man in a black suit and two Trotish Special Forces signet rings (one on each hand), with slicked back blue hair and a thin moustache, stepped out of a shiny black limousine. He buttoned his suit jacket as he waited patiently by the vehicle parked in front of the hangar. A tractor pulling a luggage cart stopped next to him and the driver glanced at the airplane.
“Drake, huh?” he asked. “Must be a real bigshot.”
“You would be surprised how big,” the man in the suit replied.
Still wearing his helmet, black leather jacket, jeans and boots, Spike drove his motorcycle down the long runway and stopped at the hangar.
“All this for him?” the tractor driver asked.
The man in the suit nodded.
“Geez,” the driver replied.
With a broad smile, the man at the limo waved and strode over to Spike and Spike smiled back as he got off his motorcycle.
“Glad to see you, Mister Drake,” he said.
“Glad to see you too, Fancy Pants,” Spike replied.
Drake Enterprises’ Chief Executive Officer and Vice-President, Fancy Pants was Spike’s senior counsel. But he had been more like a brother to Spike than anything else. Even now, Fancy Pants was much more than the extra eyes and ears in Spike’s company. He was the Equestrian Dragon’s behind-the-scenes man, not only keeping tabs on their allies and enemies, but lending an ear to his dear friend.
Midnight Radiance finally caught up with Spike, and he, Spike and Fancy Pants walked over to a massive cargo plane that was parked inside the hangar. They lifted their gaze to the back of the aircraft as it opened, descended and unfolded into a ramp. Under the three men’s watchful eyes, a vehicle slowly backed out of the plane and onto the ramp. It was a modified military vehicle—one of Drake Enterprises’ latest creations.
Fancy Pants handed Spike a remote control device and the trio stepped back from the vehicle. Spike flipped a switch on the controller and the vehicle turned in reverse. Spike flipped another switch and the vehicle moved forward and sped off.
Spike and Midnight Radiance swapped a joyful look as Spike started making the vehicle do doughnuts on the runway before it accelerated back into the hangar.
“Excuse me, Master Drake,” Fancy Pants interrupted, “but it’s time for your weekly visit to Drake Industries.”
“Do I have to?” Spike asked.
“A schedule, Sir, is like a house of cards: take one away, and they all come tumbling down,”
“All right, but don’t expect me to ride in the limo,” Spike said.
“I’ll take that ride,” Midnight Radiance jumped in. “Trying to keep up with you is exhausting.”
So, Midnight rode back to Canterlot City with Fancy Pants in the back of the limo while Spike remounted his motorcycle. Once he put on his helmet, he tapped the side of it and started making phone calls via the wireless relay built into it for discussions with the heads of his company’s various operations.
One by one, their images appeared in the corners of his visor via conference call. Among them were Raven Inkwell, one of Spike’s aides; Fancy Pants and Midnight Radiance, who were broadcasting from the back of the limo; Davenport, the proprietor of Quills and Sofas; and Jade Melody (a dark-skinned, raven-haired childhood friend of Midnight and the woman more-or-less in charge of the Drake Enterprises’ Jockeypan branch).
“Spike, are you still growing?” Raven Inkwell asked. “You look taller than you did last Hearth’s Warming.”
“I don’t think so,” Davenport disagreed.
“Doesn’t he look bigger?” Raven asked.
“His head does,” Jade Melody replied.
“Okay, folks, I’m really busy today, so we’re gonna go quickly,” Spike said.
He started up his motorcycle and was updated on the morning’s (and some of the afternoon’s) progress. He gave very few orders, mostly observed and listened before letting them get on with their work. The only real demand that he made was no smoking. As he cruised through the countryside, Spike’s motorcycle traveled along a paved road bordered by trees. He eventually passed Fancy Pants’ limo and they arrived at the base of a towering, high-tech steel and glass skyscraper in the heart of Canterlot City.
Spike led the way as the three men entered the building. He shrugged his black leather jacket off his shoulders and tossed it toward the nearby coatrack, where it landed perfectly on one of the hooks. Then Spike and Fancy Pants proceeded to show Midnight Radiance what was going on at Drake Industries.
Drake Industries was a vast assortment of experimental laboratories where most of Equestria’s cutting-edge technology was developed. With a series of gadgets, security guards, and other protective measures that made it a perfect safe haven for potential young inventors and investors.
In one of the multi-level underground labs, some of the company’s patrons—a group from Canter Zoom Studios—were observing a scientist operating a device remote controlling a group of small robots with spidery legs. Spike, Fancy Pants and Midnight Radiance then passed a group of Itailian mobsters, also checking up on their investments, with a few of them cashing in and cashing out.
Finally, they came across a thin young man with thick red hair and a matching goatee standing near a conveyor, operating a mechanical arm with a clamp. He was wearing a white lab coat, which was dirty and covered in various stains, and a pair of round glasses rested on the tip of his nose. Originally a slacker and a bum with almost no goals or ambitions, Sunburst Flare was the head of Drake Industries’ Covert Ops. With his computer expertise as an information broker, he provided Spike (and the Equestrian Dragon) with a constant stream of data in the field to help him in his battle against evil.
“So, Sunburst, you got anything in here that actually works?” Spike asked.
“Follow me,” he said and they walked past a group of people testing a new substance that was ten times stronger than the strongest adhesive known to man.
The first thing Sunburst showed Spike was a tri-weave battle suit (version 8). Flexible titanium-dipped mesh plates over a layer of MR fluid-based liquid body armor designed to move faster, hit harder, and look scarier while doing so, the Drake-Tech MR-fluid hardened in response to impact. With that kind of shock absorption, the wearer would be able to put more force into counterattacks and use the maneuverability to take out multiple foes in quick succession.
Midnight Radiance wondered why it was never put into production, and Sunburst told him it was because the majority of the company’s shareholders didn’t believe that the average soldier’s life was worth half a million dollars (which was the absolute least that a single suit would cost to manufacture).
The second project—and the one that Sunburst was most proud of—was a set of clothing made entirely out of nanobots. Microscopic robots that could disassemble themselves into a stream of nanites, enabling them to fit into and travel through extremely small spaces and reshape themselves almost instantly, they were designed by Sunburst to serve as an alternative to battle armor. He had the mechanical part figured out, but he still needed to work on the biology. More specifically, putting in safety measures that would prevent the nanobots from gaining sentience and going rogue and/or taking over humans’ bodies.
That process would include having to link the nanites directly into Spike’s nervous system, which would allow him to control them via his very thoughts as well as magic, much like he already did with most of his tech. To put it simply, the nanobots would become an outfit that could change into literally any form of attire their wearer could think of... for virtually any occasion. And because the nanobots were capable of self-cleaning, there would be no need for new clothes, laundry soaps, drier sheets, OR washer-driers. But until then, Spike would have to settle for his wardrobe full of extraordinary clothes that had been made by his Elven tailors.
“That’s fantastic!” Midnight Radiance said.
Sunburst then led them past a group of Jockeypanese scientists and a chain of assembly lines for guns, handheld automatics as well as rifles and other weapons, and showed them a piece of clothing boasting a small arsenal of miniaturized gadgets, gear, weapons and deterrents to help Spike battle his foes and survive a range of hostile environments.
“Now pay close attention,” Sunburst told Spike. “Your new belt: black leather with pure silver buckle, notch, and utility compartments outfitted with all the latest features: antitoxins, handcuffs, first-aid kit, gas pellets, micro-camera, rebreathers, wireless transmitters, lockpicks, stop-glue, helium-neon laser, grappling hook, and cinnamon-flavored breath freshener. The grappling hook has a 75-foot rappelling cord built into the buckle. Fire, and out shoots a piton followed by a high-tensile wire designed to support your weight... even in dragon form.”
Spike smiled as he put it on. Whether he was reaching for a piece of gum or the antidote to a lethal poison, Spike never went anywhere without his trusty accessory strapped around his waist.
“What does my belt do?” Midnight Radiance asked.
“Male, size 32, also black leather, keeps your pants above your rear and not below your ankles,” Sunburst responded. “Now, you see the shoes that I’m wearing? To the normal eye, a pair of ordinary Oxfords, but in actuality...”
He clicked his heels together and a flat knife blade shot out from the tip of the right shoe.
“That. Is. Sick,” Midnight Radiance replied.
“It’s coated in Komodo Dragon venom, one of the deadliest natural toxins known to man. Makes quite a handy weapon,” Sunburst said.
He clicked his heels together two more times and the blade retracted back into the shoe. Sunburst then picked up an aerosol can of what looked like ordinary insect repellant and walked up to a test dummy that was wearing a suit and standing up against a glass wall on the far side of the chamber.
“Now, this makes any fabric instantly impervious,” Sunburst said as he sprayed the dummy. “Dirt-proof, stain-proof, waterproof, and... Micro Chips!”
The group looked toward another young man with thick glasses, purple eyes and a bird’s nest of hair. A tech specialist working on a cold fusion reactor, Micro Chips aided the Drake Industries team in testing their newest inventions.
Micro nodded as he walked over to a cluttered workbench nearby and picked up a machine gun that was lying on top of it. Spike, Sunburst, Midnight Radiance, Fancy Pants and everyone else moved out of the way as Micro Chips took aim and fired at the suited test dummy.
When Micro Chips stopped shooting, Sunburst approached the dummy and unbuttoned the suit to reveal that none of the rounds had gone through the fabric. It wasn’t dented, or torn, it wasn’t even scratched.
“Bulletproof!” Sunburst proclaimed.
“Remarkable,” Midnight Radiance breathed.
“Speaking of ‘bulletproof’...” Sunburst moved to the Plexiglas wall behind the dummy. “Four-inches thick... one seemingly-ordinary ring... twist like so,” he said, pressing the palm of his hand against the glass and shattering it, “and voilà, one ultra-high frequency sonic agitator unit. Now, the cuff links I’m wearing... Each one fires a single pin-sized dart coated with sodium thiophene; works almost instantly, knocks out your victim for 12 hours, but does no permanent damage. Why don’t you take a pair, Spike?”
“Now that you mention it, I could use a new set,” he said.
“Blades in shoes, bulletproof spray, sonic rings, cuff link darts... What else have you got?” Midnight inquired as they moved on to a rack of writing pens.
“We’ve had a lot of fun with these,” Micro Chips proudly confessed.
“What do they do?” Midnight Radiance asked.
“Color-coded for your convenience,” Micro went on, “the sapphire ones are outfitted with electrodes that deliver a shock of 50,000 volts; the silver ones are Class-4 hand grenades.”
“Shut up!” Midnight said.
“Three clicks arms the four-second fuse. Another three disarms it,”
“They always said, ‘The pen is mightier than the sword,’” Spike quoted.
“Thanks to me, they were right,” Micro replied. “But if pens aren’t your style, you can always use one of these cigarette lighters. The spark wheel acts as a timer. Each notch represents five minutes, so you can set it for any time you want.”
Midnight Radiance picked up a golden pen and examined it.
“Reminds me of the old service-issue ballpoint,” he recollected. “I remember when every agent of the Trotish Secret Service would carry a pen that looked just like this. Completely innocent to the untrained eye, but click it twice...”
He did so, which caused the pen to fire a single silenced shot that thankfully didn’t hit anyone.
“Maybe you should read the manual before using first,” Sunburst advised, taking the pen from him.
Midnight Radiance went a little red in the face as Sunburst showed them a specialized vehicle parked in the corner. Spike smiled smugly at the combination muscle-and-sports car.
“Finally, your new ride, appropriately christened... El Draque,” Sunburst said. “Millions and millions of dollars have been spent, and teams of scientists have worked day and night, to develop the ultimate in Equestrian engineering and weapons technology. Adaptive camouflage: micro-sized cameras on all sides project the image they see onto a light-emitting polymer skin on the opposite side so that to the untrained eye it’s virtually invisible. Agile with all the other usual refinements: all-points radar, military-grade sonar, GPS tracking and remote control driving systems, as well as the very latest in interception countermeasures; bulletproof titanium armor, smokescreen, oil slick, target-seeking machine guns, rockets, missiles and torpedoes behind the headlights and tail lights to shoot down mobile objects, four-wheel drive, dual side airbags, a monster sound system andsix beverage cup holders.”
Sunburst opened the driver’s door and lifted the armrest between the driver and passenger seats to reveal a panel of buttons inside. He pushed one of the buttons and metal spikes shot out of the hubcaps on the tires. Then Micro Chips walked over, this time brandishing an automatic pistol, and fired it at one of the car’s tires, which quickly reinflated. Needless to say, all of these tricks would give Spike an edge, leaving all the less-than-impressive vehicles in the dust.
“Just try to not hurtle off the road. She’s one of a kind,” Sunburst said. “We should have some more upgrades ready soon.”
“Well, I’d love to show you the rest of the place,” Spike said to Midnight Radiance, “but as Fancy Pants said, I have a schedule to keep. I’m sure you can find the way back out.”
“You mean there’s more?” Midnight asked.
“It keeps these kids off the streets,” Spike replied. “And from smashing in my windows.”
Fancy Pants just shrugged and shook his head as he followed Spike back to the elevator, leaving Midnight Radiance with his imagination staggered.
Spike’s home, Pendragon Manor, was more than what most people imagine: it was a literal palace. A magnificent gray stone castle adorned with marble statues, mostly angels and dragons, and every detail from the driveway to the lawn was expensive. But the most impressive thing about it all was that it stood near the base of Mount Drago, a distinctive, pyramid-like mountain with a snow-covered peak.
Spike swung off his motorcycle after he shut off the engine and left it in the driveway, knowing that it would be parked in the garage later. He walked up the stone steps to the oak double front doors (and their huge lion knockers), and went inside, taking his shoes off as soon as the doors shut behind him. It was silent. Spike could hear nothing but the sound of his own footsteps as he walked along the imposing marble-floored hall, which the maids were currently polishing, shedding his clothes piece by piece until he was in the buff.
Luna, dressed in a form-fitting black suit coat and skirt, greeted him as he passed the conservatory filled with almost every plant imaginable, from wild rose bushes to giant Venus fly traps.
“Welcome back, Spike,” she said, trying hard to not look down at his crotch. “You must be exhausted. Shall I bring you something to drink?”
“Just cocoa,” he replied. “With dinner,” he added. “Thank you.”
“Certainly,” said she. “I’ll start making it right away.”
The inside of Pendragon Manor was fabulous, huge and beautifully furnished. A dozen silver-trimmed purple tapestries with the same image of an emerald green dragon embroidered on them hung from the high ceiling and on either side of the grand staircase.
In addition to three new guest bedrooms, Spike had five 100% marble bathrooms installed and each had a combination shower bathtub with gold-plated showerheads and faucets. The living room area, with a large table and armchairs in the middle, had a polished hardwood floor, veined mahogany walls, and a grand piano that was always kept tuned.
Most of the objects in and around Spike’s home he had acquired over many years, including a collection of Reneighssance paintings, several dozen Kirin vases, thousands of Aquastrian coins (all priceless), and a tropical fish tank full of Jockeypanese fighting fish; beautiful, graceful, elegant, yet single-minded in purpose, and deadly when they found what they wanted.
A stuffed boar’s head was mounted on the wall of the west wing above a line of suits of medieval armor wielding axes, and a cuckoo clock of the castle (built to scale). A figurine of Spike’s dragon form emerged from the tallest tower and the dragon breathed a small green flame with each chime of the bell before retracting.
The kind of things you see in rich people magazines.
Spike was not born in Equestria. In fact, his parents came from across the Celestial Sea. His mother was from the mainland of the old continent, somewhere between Germaney and Prance. His father was from Loch Ness, masquerading as a shepherd. After Locke and Barb married and she give birth to Spike, they settled in Scoltland after the Wars of Scoltish Independence. It wasn’t until some time after, when Spike got separated from them, that he claimed Pendragon Castle as his own and had it moved stone by stone to Equestria, where he had lived ever since.
Celestia, in a translucent white gown, was reclining on the chaise longue in the lounge and sipping a cup of tea when Spike walked to the rotary dial phone that rested comfortably on a tiny table made of Brayzilian rosewood. He noticed the blinking red light on the answering machine, hit the play button, and began to listen to the voicemails.
“You have four new messages,” the machine said. “Message one...”
“Spike? It’s Nosey, Nosey News. Are you there? I know you’re listening to these messages. Look, if it’s about that article, blame Inky Quills. I had nothing to do with that, I swear... Call me, okay? I miss you, Spikey.”
“‘Spikey’?” Celestia echoed.
“Message two...” the machine went on.
“Spike, it’s Sweet Biscuit. You do remember me, right? I had so much fun the other night. You are nothing like what I read in the papers. Anyway, call me when you get this. I got a couple of cute friends who can’t wait to meet you.”
“Message three...”
“Mr. Drake, Filthy Rich calling. Apologies for going via your direct line, but I grow tired of this routine. Rich Incorporated has made a very generous offer for Drake Enterprises’ Applied Sciences division, yet your persistent unavailability begins to look less like a busy social schedule and more like deliberately antagonistic behavior. Come now, meet with me. I’m sure we can come to an agreement. A man of your refined taste doesn’t need an Applied Sciences division. He needs another trillion dollars.”
“Message four...”
“Spike. It’s Bon Bon. You’re coming to Moon Dancer’s birthday party next week, aren’t you? No one’s seen you in months, Spike. And you taught me the importance of keeping up appearances.”
That message was several days old, as were all the others. Proof that Spike didn’t check his home phone very often.
Spike had had a very long day, and it still wasn’t over. After Celestia finished her tea, she changed into a white sports bra with golden trim and matching shorts and joined Spike (who had put on a black T-shirt and shorts) in his private gym to train. It was Friday, which meant it was a day for self-control, balance and coordination. In the morning, Spike started with a brisk 30 minute jog followed by 30 minutes of meditation. Then in the evening, it was clean and jerk lifts—3 reps/8 sets, at 262 pounds; followed by 5 sets of metabolic conditioning: ¼ mile run, 21 kettlebell swings and 12 pull-ups. After that, 30 minutes of flexibility finished with 30 minutes of sparring with Celestia in the dojo.
Tomorrow would be Saturday, which meant he would start with a 30 minute jog in the morning, followed by 30 minutes of yoga instead of meditation. And for the evening: crunches—50 reps/5 sets, followed by squats—5 reps/10 sets, at 525 pounds; then push-ups—50 reps/5 sets, 30 minutes on the monkey bars, another 30 minutes with the pommel horse, 30 more minutes with the heavy bag (boxing), and finally a ¼ mile swim.
As well as a keen analytical mind, Spike had a body schooled in every known fighting discipline. Dragons were creatures of immense magical power, some of the most powerful creatures in all the realms. But in order to unlock his full potential, Spike had to master the fundamentals: Dragon Fire (his ability to breathe fire), Dragon Fangs (his bite), Dragon Snout (sense of smell), Dragon Eyes (gaze for intimidation), Dragon Ears (hearing), Dragon Wings (flight), Dragon Claws (combat and climbing), and Dragon Tail (balance)... not to mention Dragon Tongue and Dragon Penis (to attract and orally pleasure any potential dragoness mates and bear them with child/a suitable heir).
Unfortunately, their great power made them emotionally volatile. That’s why Spike had to always keep his emotions in check.
After his workout, Spike wiped his brow with a towel, entered his private study, and closed the door behind him. There was a huge globe on the floor nearby, and every shelf was lined with books. It was a handsome and masculine room. Spike walked to the bookcase that stood behind the massive polished desk, touched one of the hardcovers in one of the recessed bookshelves, the title of which said, The Dragon’s Roar, and tugged on it. A section of the bookcase rotated into the wall, and Spike ducked through as it shut behind him.
Spike entered the secret passage and the floor beneath his feet retracted, causing him to drop down and into a spiraling tube. Hanging lights illuminated the seemingly never-ending ride. Eventually, he landed in a large, cavernous Gothic-style chamber filled with clear, tube-shaped, glass display cases, each one housing a different keepsake from his many exploits.
He exited the hall of armor and passed the hall of trophies, which consisted of mostly glass jars filled with various body parts from the numerous monsters and mythical titans he had defeated over the years (everything from Dragon Roosters to Harpies): including 17 hearts, 11 skulls, 63 spines, 67 tails, 59 eggs, 47 eyes, 51 plumes (feathers), 60 beaks, 55 fangs and 68 shells.
Torches lit the massive space as Spike made his way to the cavern’s inner sanctum, where Fancy Pants was standing beside a computer the size of a billboard, and Celestia (still in her sports bra and shorts) sat on the computer’s console with her legs crossed. As Spike searched the computer’s database, Fancy Pants approached the nearby wetbar and poured himself a brandy. As Fancy lifted the glass and uncorked the decanter, his ears perked when he heard Spike say that Cozy Glow had been working her way into the Canterlot City’s East End big league with the opening of her new club.
“Club Pegasus,” Celestia said, “Canterlot City’s newest night spot.”
As much as Spike hated to admit, it was a massive feat of architectural engineering. Built by the only surviving member of a wealthy high-society family, Cozy Glow had invested her inheritance and seven years of her life to construct it. Spike soon realized that Cozy Glow had made a grave mistake by building it on the sacred burial ground of Vladimir M. Balmer, otherwise known as the legendary vampire Zudak the Barbarian. Of course, Balmer/Zudak had been dead (or rather, undead) for quite some time and his crypt remained undisturbed. But the sounds and vibrations from the energy above would awaken him sooner or later, and Spike would have to prepare for that eventuality.
Spike pulled up everything he could find on Cozy Glow. There wasn’t much to go on except that she was a net idol of the exhibitionist kind. She posted all kinds of pictures of herself from sort-of-sexy to naughty bikini shots; stuff that was right up Score, Dumb-Bell and Hoof Dunkington’s alleys. To most people, she was of the pure-hearted angel variety with a bit of a mischievous side. At present, she was the most famous of all the internet idols; the number of visits to her website alone was scary. And because of that, she could easily manipulate anyone. All men were completely under her spell; they were absolutely powerless against her.
As Spike looked at the photos on Cozy Glow’s website, he couldn’t help but think that she looked strikingly similar to the pink Pegasus he had seen with Tirek the night before, but he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure. And what little info Spike had been able to dig up on Club Pegasus itself was that it served hors d’oeuvres as well as cocktails, the music was mostly electronic or “progressive” rock, and all the bouncers were six-foot-four ex-wrestlers.
Luna came in carrying Spike’s and Fancy Pants’ dinners on a silver platter: a couple of sirloin steaks, asparagus with garlic butter, and two bowls of roasted red pepper soup with smoked Gouda. And for Spike, a cup of hot chocolate and two little white pills set aside from it all.
“The cocoa and soup are both hot, the sirloins are well done, and the painkillers are for your migraine,” she said, motioning to each of them after setting them down on the console next to Spike.
Spike sniffed the cocoa appreciatively, smiling at the milk at the top that had foamed to form the image of a heart, and raised the mug to his lips.
“Thank you, Luna,” he said gratefully. “Some days I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“For starters, you would do your own laundry,” she replied. “By the way, Spike Drake is expected to appear at Moon Dancer’s birthday party at the grand opening for Club Pegasus tonight. I’ve laid out your nightclubbing outfit and your best shoes. They are ready for you in your bedroom, as is your invitation.”
“That’s tonight already?” Spike asked.
“Yes, sir, and since you are the one who paid for said birthday, it would be impolite for you not to make an appearance,” Luna advised. “The party is in one hour. Try not to be late as usual.”
As he watched Luna leave via the stone steps that led up to the secret passage hidden behind the grandfather clock in the mansion’s library, Spike couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. She and Celestia both loved him very much, and he hated himself because he felt that he did little more than take them for granted. Deep down Spike knew that some days he couldn’t even find his socks without their help.
“How does she put up with me?” he asked himself before gazing passionately at Celestia. “How do you put up with me?”
“Well, you do have $27 nonillion dollars in gold, silver and precious stones,” she replied, “and no less than two of everything.”
“Are those the only reasons?”
She kissed him strongly on the lips. “No. You also have the sexiest ass I have ever seen on any male... dragon, mortal or otherwise.”
Celestia followed her sister, and Spike couldn’t help but smile at her words.
“Fancy Pants, did you hear that?”
“Indeed, Sir,” he replied, somewhere between smiling and stone-faced. “Miss Soleil worships your ass. I’m most delighted for you.”
After they ate dinner in the cave, Spike and Fancy Pants went up the stone steps—a different set that led to the kitchen—where they found Midnight Radiance sitting at the table and struggling to wrap a little box in colorful paper. Spike hadn’t brought in the mail when he came in, and there had been no packages left by the front door, so Midnight must have picked up a package that had been delivered to Spike after he got home.
That was all Spike could figure.
“Why do I have to be the one to wrap the present?” Midnight asked.
“If you want to go to this party with me, the least you can do is wrap the gift I bought,” Spike told him.
“You’re the Equestrian Dragon, why don’t you just cast a spell or something and magic wrap this?” Midnight Radiance inquired.
“Spells are not to be used for such trivial things as the wrapping of birthday presents,” Fancy Pants answered.
“So, help me with this!” Midnight replied.
Fancy Pants sighed and rolled his eyes as he removed his coat and rolled up his sleeves. He helped Midnight Radiance with wrapping the gift as Spike wrote “Happy Birthday” on a card in his best cursive.
“All right, watch me,” Fancy Pants instructed. “Pull just enough on the ribbon to get a good curl.”
“You’re kind of feminine, you know that?” Midnight Radiance asked.
“Oh, and which of us can only go to cool parties because his best friend was invited to them?” Fancy countered.
“Touché,” Midnight replied.
Later, in his master bedroom upstairs, Spike disrobed once more and took a quick shower. Then he put on the clothes Luna had laid out for him.
Like his private study, Spike’s boudoir was a masculine room. It offered every amenity and elegance, but it retained a manly air. There was a huge trunk at the foot of the bed, and there were matching armories in the two rear corners. Across from the fireplace and facing the windows was a large oak desk, and closer to the sunlight was a small round table covered simply in white linen. An open doorway led to a dressing room. Spike strode to the doorway and stepped through. To the far rear of the small room was a rack hung with coats and other apparel.
He picked out a full length black Crombie that just barely touched the ground, fit snugly above his waist, had a 40-inch chest because he needed the sleeve length, and draped out into an A-line below. Spike then straightened his immaculately knotted tie as he walked back to the bathroom and looked himself in the mirror... and remembered when he first met his former mentor.
Spike was born in the Scoltish Highlands and (after survivng a fatal wound) was found by a tall, thin, and very old wizard with a big, long, light gray beard and hair and dressed in a pointed hat, long silver robes that swept the ground, and a blue cloak lined with little golden jingle bells that rang as he walked.
“Greetings. I am Star Swirl the Bearded, chief advisor to the Queen of Trotland and I am at your service,” he had introduced himself.
“What do you want?” Spike had inquired.
“You,” the wizard replied. “You are Spike Drake, wounded in battle and driven from your village in Scoltland five years ago.”
Spike wanted to know how this old man knew about that—especially since Spike hadn’t shared that information with anyone—but the words that came out of his mouth were, “Who are you?”
“We are the same, Drake,” the wizard replied. “We are Immortals!”
Star Swirl explained to Spike that dragons were not the only magical creatures living on earth and that some humans had been born immortal. Spike also learned that the Immortals had been waging a secret war since the Thousand Year Conflict, fighting and killing each other until the last remaining few would meet at a yet-to-be-determined point in time to fight for some “grand prize.”
After meeting Spike, Star Swirl took it upon himself to train the young drake in not just the knowledge and ways of the Immortals, but in the ways of dragons as well. He helped Spike to gain better control of and strengthen his own powers and abilities, which came in very handy when he was eventually confronted by many of his old enemies.
“Were you seen?” Star Swirl asked Spike after the Equestrian Dragon had survived his first battle.
“No, but I lost a fang,”
“Then it is gone,”
“I can get it back!”
“Spike, let it go! You must never lapse. Even those who would be your allies would not understand,” Star Swirl sighed heavily. “Your domain is in the shadow. Stray from it reluctantly. For when you do, you must strike hard and fade away without a trace.”
Spike was a Dragon, like his parents were before him, their parents before them, their parents, and six generations back. And he missed out on many things; while his friends went to parties and the movies, he was battling everything from giants and demons to hairy, twelve-eyed spiders and bullywugs (nasty, brutish humanoid frogs armed with tridents). And the worst of it all was he couldn’t even share that info with anyone.
“They are not the Equestrian Dragon, you are!” Star Swirl had said. “This is your burden, and you must bear it alone. It is your destiny. I know you can rise to meet it.”
And as time went by, Spike grew and became the wealthiest guy in the world. He was the handsomest, most available bachelor, and he owned the biggest, most successful company, as well as being able shapeshift into his dragon form... and nobody knew that the dragon was him.
Spike shook off the memories and looked at a portion of the bathroom wall (right next to the mirror), where he had punched a hole in it years ago.
“Great,” he had grumbled, “another thing I have to fix.”
That’s when Celestia walked in on him. “Listen, Spike, I know this whole thing has been hard on you,” she’d said. “First, you find out you’re a dragon.”
“That’s cool,” he had replied. “It’s the whole ‘oh, and by the way, you’re the guardian responsible for the protection of an entire magical underworld’ that’s got me so upset right now.”
“That’s why it’s so important for you to master your dragon powers,” Celestia had told him. “Look, I know Star Swirl can be... eccentric at times, but you’ve just got to trust him.”
And Spike did trust him... right up to the very day he died.
“I will not be around forever,” Star Swirl had said. “You are still young, but one day I will be gone. Use my teachings wisely. Your dragon abilities are reaching their peak. Only one truly important lesson remains, but must wait...”
Once again, Spike was brought out of his memories... this time by Celestia, who had showered and was now dressed in a tight, white mini dress (one that was made for clubbing) that barely covered her thighs.
She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and asked, “What were you thinking about just now?”
“I was thinking about the last time we were here,” he said. “Just like this.”
Celestia smiled knowingly. “Come on. Let’s go,” she said.
Spike and Celestia made their way downstairs, where they met up with Luna, Fancy Pants, and Midnight Radiance, who had all changed and were ready to go to the party in town.
“We’ll be taking the Buick this evening,” Spike said.
“As I anticipated, sir,” Fancy Pants replied. “It is idling out front with a full tank of gas.”
“Thanks, Fancy,”
Spike had thought about the Cord, which was really a black Hupmobile Skylark, but decided against it. Too many people already gave him weird looks whenever he drove around in that old fossil, he didn’t need to add to that list.
As they made their way out the front doors and down the steps, Luna said to Spike, “I fail to see why I have to attend a party of one of your cohorts.”
“Because men find you attractive,” Midnight Radiance told her.
“Oh, shut up,” she replied.
“It’s true, Luna. A lot of guys think you’re cute,” Spike said. “Now look, I’m Moon Dancer’s best friend and I flake out on her enough with all these Creature Feature battles I have to get into, so all of you behave!”
They each opened a door—Spike grabbed the handle on the driver’s door, Celestia the front passenger side, Midnight Radiance took the seat behind her, and Luna took the back seat behind Spike (the driver), with Fancy Pants, who would be wedged in between them—and just as they were about to climb inside, a small, pink, heart-shaped perfume bottle fell out of Spike’s pants pocket and fell onto the gravel driveway. The stopper popped off and a roiling cloud of pink smoke shot out from inside, and a female genie materialized before them.
Genies (also known as Djinn) were rare elemental creatures out of story and legend. Only a few could be found on the Material Plane. The rest resided on the Elemental Planes, where they ruled from lavish palaces and were attended by worshipful slaves. Djinn ruled floating islands of clouds covered with enormous pavilions, or topped with wondrous buildings, courtyards, fountains and gardens. Creatures of comfort and ease, djinn enjoyed succulent fruits, pungent wines, fine perfumes, and beautiful music.
As brilliant as they were mighty, genies were as proud as they were majestic. Haughty and decadent, they had a profound sense of entitlement that stemmed from the knowledge that few creatures except dragons and other genies could challenge their power. A genie obeyed the will of another only when bribed or compelled by magic. All genies commanded the power of their native element, but a rare few also possessed the power to grant wishes. For both those reasons, mortal mages often sought to bind genies into service.
Djinn were known for their sense of mischief and their favorable attitude toward mortals. Among genies, the djinn dealt coolly with efreet and marids, whom they viewed as haughty. They openly despised dao and struck against them with little provocation. Masters of the air, the djinn rode powerful whirlwinds that they created and directed on a whim, and which could even carry passengers. Creatures that stood against a djinni were assaulted by wind and thunder, even as the djinni spun away on that wind if outmatched in combat. When a djinni flew, its lower body transformed into a column of swirling air.
And as well as being Masters of the Wind, they were accepting servitors. The djinni believed that servitude was a matter of fate, and that no being could contest the hand of fate. As a result, of all the genies, djinn were the ones most amenable to servitude. Powerful wizards were able to forgo such niceties, however, if they could summon, bind into service, or imprison a djinni using magic. Long-term service displeased the djinni, and imprisonment was inexcusable. Djinn resented the cruel wizards that imprisoned their kind in bottles, iron flasks, and even wind instruments throughout the ages. Betrayal, particularly by a mortal whom a djinni trusted, was a vile deed that only deadly vengeance could amend. Proud, sensuous genies from the Elemental Plane of Air, the djinn were typically attractive, tall, well-muscled humanoids with blue skin and dark eyes. They dressed in airy, shimmering silks, designed as much for comfort as to flaunt their musculature.
This genie, however, was quite a bit different than that (at least in terms of physical appearance). She was a beauty all right, but she had chocolate brown skin, hair the color of rubies, eyes like gold, which matched her hoop earrings; and she wore the usual bedlah garb: sheer white harem pants with a black bustier. She was also a straight up pervert, which was the main reason she loved men so much, and she had a love for all things big and curvy like herself.
“Thou may ask anything of thy slave,” she said with a low bow.
“What the-?!” Luna began.
“Thou hast set me free, now I belong to thee... and only thee,” she went on.
She wrapped her arms around Spike’s neck and tried to kiss him on the lips, but he moved an open hand in front of his face, causing her to kiss his palm.
“I’ll travel anywhere with thee, Master,” she continued. Then she glanced over his shoulder at Celestia, Luna, Fancy Pants and Midnight Radiance. “And whom are these?” she inquired.
“They are my friends,” Spike explained.
The genie scoffed with a huff. “Thou art kidding!” She smiled at him. “I can do much more for thee than they can.”
“I wish you were back in your bottle, young lady!” Spike commanded.
The genie pouted, but complied.
“Thou art so masterful...” she said in a husky tone.
Her ample hips wiggled suggestively and another large, inviting smile turned the corners of her mouth as she transformed into a cloud of smoke once more and returned to her bottle with a wink.
“Why are you carrying a djinni around in your pants?” Luna inquired.
“Well, you never know when you’re going to need one,” Spike answered as he returned the bottle’s stopper to its rightful place and put the bottle back in his pocket. “And they’re harmless; they only attack evil creatures. Despite humans’ vicious sarcasm, they don’t qualify. Midnight, would you hold Moon Dancer’s present until we get there?”
“I’d rather have the genie!” he said with a rather perverted grin.
“Would you like to walk to the party, instead?” Spike asked him.
“Give me the present,” Midnight grumbled in reply.
“Come along, Sandra,” Spike said.
And the gray wolf climbed into the front seat and rested in Celestia’s lap.
